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Intercorporeality: toward a new history of Roman emotion
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Intercorporeality: toward a new history of Roman emotion
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1 Intercorporeality: Toward a New History of Roman Emotion Jennifer J. Devereaux Doctor of Philosophy (CLASSICS) University of Southern California FACULTY OF THE USC GRADUATE SCHOOL May 2019 With great thanks to Thomas Habinek, Douglas Cairns, Christelle Fischer-Bovet, William Short, Morteza Dehghani, Peter Meineck, and William Thalmann for their support and guidance. 2 Intercorporeality: Toward A New History of Roman Emotion Introduction 4 Chapter 1: A Cognitive-Sociological Approach to Classical Latin Texts 21 a. Embodiment and Intersubjectivity b. Embodied Semantics c. Embodied Simulation d. Socially Situated Cognition e. Bourdieu’s Habitus f. Why a Cognitive Sociological Approach? Chapter 2: Situated Cognition and the Semantic Body 43 a. Analogia b. Motus Animi c. Motus Animorum and Principia Proludentia Adfectibus d. Memory Pads and Emotional Regimes e. Enargeia? f. Constitutive Rhetoric Chapter 3: The Historeme 74 a. Redefining the Historeme (part 1) i. The Prelinguistic Historeme b. Probability c. Re-memorability d. The Transhistorical Body and Epistemological Paradigms e. A New Type of Type-Scene f. A New Type of Enthymeme ii. Redefining the Historeme (part 2) g. Enactive Analogies Chapter 4: Re-remembering History 105 a. Tiberius before the Senate i. Tacitus and the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre b. Nero in the Streets of Rome c. Aspernor and the (Re)negotiation of Power d. Thresholds of Experience e. Constitutive Rhetoric f. Conclusion 3 Chapter 5: Comprehending Seneca’s De Ira 134 a. Stoic (esp. Senecan) Emotion b. Comprehendere and Stoic (esp. Senecan) Assent c. Rethinking Seneca’s Style i. De Ira 1.1-2 ii. Quintilian IO.10.1.130 d. Fluctus Animi and Emotional Environments e. Conclusion Chapter 6: Second Nature in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses 164 a. Apuleius: Cupid and Psyche i. Ars Amatoria 1.233-46 ii. Naturalis Historia 14.28 b. A Comparative Model i. Catullus 45 ii. Heroides 16 c. Toward a Philosophy of Reading d. Allusions, Intertexts, or Second Nature? e. Mutuo Nexu f. Conclusion Conclusion 202 Bibliography 210 4 Introduction This thesis is about the interface of memory and emotion in Roman antiquity and how its study can be carried out. It explores questions like: What role does prose style play in shaping, changing, and transmitting the norms and values that hold communities together? How do texts ensure that emotions are embedded in recollections of the past? And how does such embedding shape our understanding of knowledge and authority in antiquity? These questions are relevant, I believe, to sharpening our discernment of emotional and literary practices in the ancient world, and their examination brings historical depth to current concerns regarding cultural stability and change, the rhetoric of identity, and the quintessence of collective memory. This research project provides a framework for treating emotions as historical artifacts by asking a question that has, in recent years, been particularly energizing to classical studies: What is the role of the body in structuring meaning in ancient texts? In particular, it explores authors’ use of bodily images (especially embodied metaphors) in structuring historiographical narrative and how such structuring can help transmit collective memory. It offers novel insights through the application of so-called “4E” theories of cognition to the study of Latin literature. “4E” theories are an interrelated group of theories which maintain that cognition is simultaneously embodied, embedded, enactive, and extended – in other words, that cognition involves more than the skull-bound brain and depends fundamentally on the nature of the body and the character of human bodily engagement with the environment. Also crucial to this thesis is Bourdieu’s theory that the body is the link between the individual and society, meaning that much of our ability to understand ourselves, to coordinate action and intention, and to effectively communicate our experiences, emerges directly from the properties of the body. My particular claim is that meaning in ancient texts is very often constructed through what I call “prelinguistic historemes,” which are highly 5 schematic, gestalt structures of bodily experience (similar to the “image schemas” of cognitive linguistics, but derived from all kinds of bodily experience: sensorimotor, proprioceptive, interoceptive, affective, and so on) which provide structure to a variety of narrative episodes. I identify the operation of this prelinguistic narrative architecture in a multitude of texts and provide a series of case studies drawn from historiography, philosophy, and the ancient novel. These case studies, I argue, help cultural historians to better understand how body-based narrative schemas underpin the functioning of these texts as conduits of social norms and values. If the theoretical framework of my thesis draws in equal parts on the cognitive sciences and Bourdieusian sociology, my analytical method combines more traditional tools of philology (close reading, linguistic analysis, stylistics) with computational linguistics. To help identify the schematic representations of bodily experience that quietly underpin large segments of text, I designed a Latin module for the TACIT (“Text Analysis, Crawling, and Interpretive Tool”) platform for searching electronic corpora. This TACIT module enables me to build “dictionaries” of bodily experience, search texts for them, and thus detail emotional content across different texts and authors. In terms of how this project is situated among the existing literature on Roman emotion and cultural history, it largely aims at the same query Robert Kaster posed in Emotion, Restraint, and Community in Ancient Rome: “How can we understand, as fully and authentically as possible, the emotion talk of another culture removed in time in a way that does not entail simplification – reducing emotion to lexical packages of our own language – or projection – by answering the question according to the emotion we might feel in the same circumstance?” 1 Central to Kaster’s answer to this question is his interest in the conscious experience of emotion and the argument that emotion, properly understood, is an entire 1 Kaster 2005: 6. 6 process comprised of all its constituent elements. 2 Emotion is “the unitary experience of the whole package deal.” 3 The “whole package deal” – a “sequence of perception, evaluation, and response through which the data of life are processed; or, in other words, a set of moves and motives that a person who experiences the emotion in question enacts” -- is referred to by Kaster as “a script.” Kaster focuses on the scripts of five emotions that pertain to “bad vibes of a particular sort,” not those that move one to lash out, like anger, but “those of a generally quieter, socially useful strain that, by exerting a normative pressure, aim to prevent or correct [an] offense.” 4 These emotions are verecundia, pudor, paenitentia, invidia, and fastidium (together with the concept integer). 5 Kaster is especially concerned with causal factors, though he does pay fair attention to the corporeal experiences of the emotions themselves (e.g. fastidium registers corporeally in the stomach). My approach, which focuses on entirely different emotional experiences, seeks to provide a “bottom-up” approach that is distinct from Kaster’s “top-down” analysis. As such, I propose focusing on the underlying conceptual metaphors that structure narratives. I begin with the identification of such metaphors, the bodily bases of which I refer to as “kernels of truth,” and move outwards to the analysis of content. In this way, I offer a novel way of researching and talking about emotion in the ancient world. One might say, in essence, I look for the residue of the emotions that hold stories and people together, so as to consider emotional resonance as not only an element of the historical record, but also as an historical artifact in its own right. Influential here is Paul Connerton’s Bourdieusian observation that memory is sedimented in the body. 6 He notes that there is no separation between how 2 Kaster 2005: 8. 3 Kaster 2005: 9. 4 Kaster 2005: 4. 5 “modesty, shame, regret, envy, and disgust (together with integrity).” Integrity is that which connects identity, especially moral identity, with the behaviors by which we make ourselves known in the world. See Kaster 2005: 135. 6 Connorton 1989. 7 individuals vs societies preserve and rediscover memories, 7 because individual memory distinct from social memory is an abstraction devoid of meaning. 8 I take this to mean that both individuals and collectives generate and recover memories bodily, but it is the collective which gives meaning to the bodily states and dispositions individuals re-remember when forming their own memories about various things. I call the re-rememberings of this sort, which we find concretized in ancient texts, “prelinguistic historemes.” I use this term in an attempt to capture the “second nature” such re-rememberings represent. The term is derived but distinct from Joel Fineman’s definition of the “historeme” as an anecdote, rich in embodied experience, which exists independently of the broader narrative. 9 “Prelinguistic historemes” are not anecdotal. They are integral to their surroundings, rich in embodied experience, and yet exist independently of the narratives in which they are embedded. Prelinguistic historemes are, as I define them, transhistorical Bourdieusian concepts that assimilate to their ever-changing contexts. As a collection, they represent the mnemonics of the body, reminding readers of the organizing principles of social life. 10 Such techniques create a bodily memory of a communal lexicon, that is, a system of taken-for-granted classifications which the group holds important, are habituated, and have a persuasive and persistent force. 11 So, what exactly is a prelinguistic historeme? It is a cluster of words, especially verbs, that coalesce around a certain idea within a fairly short span of text. These clusters, through the re-remembering of sensorimotor information, evoke attendant socioemotional associations. These clusters, together with their associations, are produced by sustained reduplication processes. They are thus “historical kinds,” meaning that they are bundles of 7 Connerton 1989: 72. 8 Connerton 1989: 37. 9 Fineman 1989. 10 Connerton 1989: 88. 11 Ibid. 8 sets of properties that repeatedly appear together, not merely owing to causal dependencies among these properties, but owing to a common historical origin or source. 12 I suggest, in line with the intuitions of the ancients, that bodily experience is the historical origin – “the kernel of truth” – which grounds collective memory and numerous narratives in classical Latin texts. 13 To discuss the patterns I call “prelinguistic historemes,” I look to 4E cognitive theories because their grounding in the body provides a way to see imitation not as an abstract, representational correspondence, but as lived resonance between an originating experience and its linguistic reactivation. 14 This notion of imitation, I argue, provides a way of seeing how pattern and flexibility work out their competing imperatives. 15 A prelinguistic historeme is a variable, historical set of conventions rather than a single representational ideal, 16 and mimesis in this context refers not to a conventional reproduction, but rather to two systems resonating interactively to reciprocal effect. 17 These resonances form a history of emotion which takes into account that words can subconsciously invoke bodily memories even if that is not what the text is about. 18 By way of my redefinition of the historeme, I thus also offer a new perspective on hermeneutics, “the long philosophical tradition devoted to the study of interpretation, the central tenet of which is that interpretation is circular,” meaning that one can only understand a text by recognizing patterns that reciprocally construct the overarching arrangement. 19 As to why it is worthwhile to approach ancient emotions in this way, the answer is fairly simple: thought is mostly unconscious and emotions are constructed by embodied 12 See Millikan 2017: 17. 13 See Woodman 1988 for the original use of this term. 14 See Armstrong 2013: 154. 15 Ibid. 16 Ibid. 17 Ibid. 18 See Burke 2011: 114-119. 19 Armstrong 2013: 54. 9 experience. 20 To get at the unconscious, embodied aspect of ancient texts, one has to pay attention to a different sort of prose rhythm that is not unlike what Bourdieu identified as “a preverbal taken for granted that flows from practical sense, analogous to the rhythm of a line of verse whose words have been forgotten, or the thread of a discourse that’s been impoverished.” 21 This rhythm is the unconscious aspect of language that is brought about by “some inner, unbidden, barely felt pressure related to the physical sensations associated with strong emotions.” 22 To analyze this prose rhythm, I pay attention to the interplay between perceptible form and intangible content which channels sensorimotor information into the working memory of the reader. 23 Michael Burke calls this sort of interplay “oceanic,” because a blend of cultural, universal, and particular emotional experiences emerge from the ebb and flow of the textual, cognitive, and somatic elements of the text, generating a rhythm “not unlike the physical, subconscious act of breathing.” 24 It is useful, I think, to think about Burke’s ocean analogy in terms of words like συμπνεῖν and conspirare, by which bodily synchronizations are used to figuratively express psychological convergence. These words literally mean “to breathe together,” but figuratively mean “to achieve unity” and “to agree together in thought or feeling.” Prelinguistic historemes are, in a manner of speaking, about synchronizing the breath of readers. The point of such synchronization is identified by Thomas Habinek, who follows Connerton’s discussion of “inscribing activities” and “incorporating practices” when noting that social reproduction takes place through bodily practice. 25 Citing Aen. 7.698-705, wherein a multi-ethnic community marches together to celebrate their king in song, Habinek focuses on the phrase aequati numero to note that rhythm and the movement it provokes transforms 20 Burke 2011: 122. 21 Bourdieu 1990 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 388. 22 Burke 2011: 128. 23 Burke 2011: 140-141 24 Burke 2011: 122; 149; 157. 25 Habinek 2005: 158. 10 diverse subjects into peers by keeping them together in time as a single entity. 26 Historical change is managed through the forging of a shared memory which is locked irretrievably, as it were, in not only their brains but also their bodies. 27 Further performances of such bodily memories in turn transmit information integral to the identity of the collective from generation to generation. 28 To highlight this point, Habinek focuses on the cinaedus and the use by that figure of mimesis to “expose the operations of mainstream culture and its attempt to create second nature.” 29 Prelinguistic historemes, I suggest, offer further detail as to how the second nature created by and through the body is transmitted by literature. Much as music was used to inculcate the proper bodily schemas and movements of the Roman people at public celebrations, 30 more abstract, oceanic prose rhythms create a second nature pertaining to emotion and the structures of authority embedded in collective memories. My argument about the body and “second nature” is inspired by Habinek’s observation that there was a desire on the part of imperial Romans to have performance and true sentiment somehow correspond. 31 Habinek looks to Plutarch to illustrate this point. In one of his problemata, Plutarch speaks of a “new type of entertainment”: having slaves provide bodily movement to a dramatic reading of Plato, so that the character of the dialogue participants may be presented using “bodily schemes and delivery that follows what is being said.” 32 One might imagine that the association of style, bodily comportment, and character, such as that detailed in Seneca’s 114 th epistle, played an occasional role in choreographing performances like those described by Plutarch. For example, Seneca describes bad style in terms of both literal and metaphorical foot dragging, which could easily be mimicked 26 Habinek 2005: 165. 27 Habinek 2005: 177. 28 Habinek 2005: 175. 29 Habinek 2005: 195. 30 Habinek 2005: 200. 31 Habinek 2005: 201. 32 Habinek 2005: 201-202. 11 corporeally by a performer. As Habinek notes, the ostensible topic of Seneca’s letter is right and wrong literary style, but its focus, given literature’s status in Roman antiquity as both a textual and bodily practice, is on the body as well as the text. 33 However, the imitation of what Seneca describes would be limited to style and devoid of content, which is with what the performances identified by Plutarch are concerned. Since it is the bodily performance of content rather than style that characterizes Plutarch’s speakers, one must consider how such a performance might be carried out. One way in which content can be performed bodily is through gesture. Gesture and movement in general characterize live performances, which occur precisely because movement and gesture are part of a system of communication that is sensitive to context. Due to this sensitivity to context, Anthony Corbeill sees gesture as a way to gain access to a shared area of knowledge based not on the expression of individual will, but on cultural circumstances. 34 “To interpret and account for a gesture is to unlock the whole social and cultural system of which it is a part.” 35 Corbeill details a wide number of gestures found in ancient sources, from a Roman man scratching his head with his middle finger to signal sexual availability to other men, 36 to early Christians spreading their arms in prayer as a sign of their innocence and surrender to a superior. 37 Such gestures provide access to systems of thought otherwise not accessible to us. 38 Corbeill uses modern scientific research to reinforce the value of gesture studies by citing increasing evidence for the claim that gesture and spoken utterance are different sides of a single underlying mental process, something he observes Quintilian would have found self-evident. 39 Like Corbeill, I use modern scientific research to claim that there is value to 33 Habinek 2005: 207. 34 Corbeill 2004: 1. 35 Corbiell 2004: 1 quoting Thomas 1992. 36 Corbeill 2004: 1. 37 Corbeill 2004: 27. 38 Corbeill 2004: 2. 39 Corbeill 2004: 3. 12 studying the movements of the body, but I take things further by suggesting that meaning is often grounded in bodily experiences that are not at the center of attention, but are rather hovering in the background. 40 Hovering in the background, I argue, are conceptual metaphors grounded in bodily experience that structure the narratives in which they participate, drawing readers to synchronize in thought and feeling, acting not unlike the claques of rhythmic clappers exploited by emperors to lead others “to succumb to their numeri.” 41 The recent studies Corbeil draws upon demonstrate that gesture is concerned with the regulation of interpersonal relationships, with displays of one’s own mental condition, and with evaluative response toward others. 42 These are the same dimensions prelinguistic historemes are concerned with. Through them, for example, I explore the regulation of interpersonal relationships in passages about female experience, which are found in authors ranging from Horace to Apuleius; I identify displays of mental conditions in Tacitus’s narratives about Tiberius and Nero, as well as in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses; and I explore evaluative responses in Tacitus and Livy, as well as in Seneca and Apuleius. I focus a great deal on evaluative responses because one cannot avoid addressing the relationship between emotion and appraisal. The former seems to involve the latter and no discussion on cognition can thus circumvent emotion. 43 For this reason, I also situate my work among those concerned with the history of emotion. An early and definitive work on the history of emotion is William Reddy’s The Navigation of Feeling. In this work, Reddy speaks of “cogmotion.” Cogmotion represents “the inseparable nature of cognition and emotion,” 44 a relationship that largely plays out at the level of “unconscious cognition,” which influences performance outside of awareness. 45 I have added to this idea more recent scientific research 40 See Burke 2011: 11. 41 Habinek 2005: 203. 42 Corbeill 2004: 5 quoting Kendon 1984. 43 Burke 2011: 26. 44 Reddy 2001: 15. 45 Reddy 2001: 18. 13 and philosophical argumentation which defines “unconscious cognition” as that which is grounded in and mediated by the body. Traces of embodied experience remain in the brain and are recruited during the processes of meaning making (detailed in Chapter One). The recruitment of this experience helps to simplify complexity through the implementation of bodily schemas of emotional significance, 46 which is to say, complex emotional concepts are in part identifiable in texts by way of the traces of experience left in the brain which can be activated by language. I thus offer alternative support for the contention that emotions are not only affected by history, but are also a part of history, and in fact have a history of their own. 47 To put it otherwise, I propose these traces –these prelinguistic historemes -- are historical artifacts which have a formative influence on their recipients and can be studied as such. 48 I make this proposal because prelinguistic historemes – scatterings of conceptually cohesive material – cohere with Reddy’s definition of emotion: an array of loosely-linked thought material that tends to be activated simultaneously, representing a schema that is too large to be translated into action or utterance over a brief time horizon. 49 A problem faced by those who wish to identify and study a history of emotion is the deliberate artifice of literature, as outlined by Barbara Rosenwein in Emotional Communities in the Early Middle Ages: Sources are interested, often insincere. What should we make of them when they purport to tell us about emotions? Further, as composed texts, are they not very far from ‘real’ emotions? Then, too, do not genres dictate the emotional tenor that a text will have, quite independently from any supposed community? Finally, aren’t texts full of topoi, repeated commonplaces derived from other places, sources, and eras? What can topoi tell us about real feeling? 50 46 Reddy 2001: 24. 47 See Reddy 2001: 49. 48 One might think of this in terms of an archaeologist unearthing an ancient drinking vessel. Having had similar vessels transmit down to his/her own time, the archaeologist will understand the object, in part, through his/her own experience. The interpretation of the function of the vessel is mediated by bodily knowledge which guides intuitions about it. For example, its size relative to the hand or head informs the understanding of its use in private or ceremonial contexts. 49 Reddy 2001: 111. 50 Rosenwein 2006: 26. 14 The study of prelinguistic historemes largely avoids this problem, because prelinguistic historemes do not directly tell us about emotions. If anything, they seem to betray emotion unwittingly. Their being “loosely linked thought material that tends to activate simultaneously” suggests they are nondeliberate, even when an element of otherwise intentional artifice. They allow sentiment to claim a natural influence over composition. As for genre’s independence from community, that is only true until someone speaks, writes, or reads in a particular genre. This isn’t Plato’s land of the forms. Genre, by virtue of having a socially embedded author and reader(s), is inextricable from community, however continually (re)defined. And, yes, texts are full of topoi – and prelinguistic historemes might, reductively, be seen as a variety thereof. But I focus on prelinguistic historemes in terms of their being “storehouses for argument” that function as “inventional and grouping resources to reveal a public’s values,” 51 and which “allow one to bring about or increase the adherence of minds to the theses that one proposes for their assent.” 52 Prelinguistic historemes are elements of literature that persuade readers to “sync up” in terms of sentiment, which is vital to the perpetuation of social norms and values. In her more recent work, Rosenwein seems to anticipate arguments like mine, nodding early on to Corbeill and the Roman association between gesture and feeling, marking it as “a starting point for other researchers.” 53 Like Kaster, Rosenwein is, in this work, interested in “scripts” which she calls “emotional sequences” and defines as circumstances that give rise to one emotion and the actions and expressions that accompany it. 54 Attending to iterative sequences, Rosenwein admits to judgmental sampling: focusing on moments the historian considers important. I cannot absolve myself of this sin either, though I commit it in a unique way, which should count for something. Prelinguistic historemes are a bit like 51 Palczewski 2015: 7. 52 Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca 1969: 83-85. 53 Rosenwein 2016: 4. 54 Rosenwein 2016: 8. 15 “scripts” and “emotional sequences,” but they are derived from bodily experience rather than circumstance. They are thus constitutive of -- and yet entirely separable from -- the circumstances in which they arise, functioning to transmit socially relevant -- or even socially constitutive – material. Importantly, they are not incompatible with scripts, with which they can work side-by-side to generate a more replete history of emotion. This thesis consists of six chapters. Two establish the theoretical framework and subsequent redefinition of the historeme, which I situate in the Roman linguistic context in a third chapter. The remaining three chapters can be read as independent case studies. However, they also combine to offer a skeletal narrative of how bodily experience can help us to better understand the history of Roman emotion. In particular, they observe and contextualize the previously unnoticed patterns of bodily experience which frequently structure narratives that might otherwise be examined in terms of scripts or even topoi. Through observation and contextualization, I argue that prelinguistic historemes which, unlike scripts, are independent of their context and, unlike topoi, transmit unique, socially situated information, offer a systematic yet flexible means of studying emotional experience in the Roman world. Chapter One defines intersubjectivity in terms of intercorporeality, that is, in terms of the communicative potential of the body as an integrated component of cognition. It further suggests that Bourdieu’s habitus offers a way to think about the body as necessary to language’s generative structure. Linking intercorporeality with Bourdieu’s habitus, I argue, facilitates a multi-faceted inquiry into the social aspects of ancient texts. My main argument is that this perspective allows readers to excavate beneath the surface of empirical phenomena and identify a means by which texts are able to engage a collective, moral- emotional identity that can arise spontaneously, intuitively, and even unconsciously. 16 Chapter Two situates embodied semantics and intercorporeality in a Roman context, especially through the concept of motus animi, which represents an embodied metaphor fundamental to the way Romans conceived of mental activity. The Roman mind was ever in motion. Cicero believed the mind and body of every man to be in constant motion (et corpore et animo moveri semper). 55 The younger Seneca remarked that it is the nature of the human mind to be in motion (natura enim humanus animus agilis est et pronus ad motus). 56 Why not, then, look at texts like works of art that exist in movement 57 and thereby reflect the Roman desire to harmonize the movements of the body with the external world? 58 I suggest one can take this perspective by paying attention to the emotional resonance encouraged by the blurring of internal and external worlds in depictions of emotional experience in Roman texts, wherein the body and the environment mirror one another in movement. My suggestion is that this habit of Roman expression creates the opportunity for impromptu emotional communities to form by way of what Cicero and Quintilian referred to as “the singular movement of multiple minds” (motus animorum). Chapter Three builds off the previous two chapters to redefine Joel Fineman’s “historeme.” 59 Fineman identifies the historeme as the smallest minimal unit of historiographic fact that possesses a peculiar and eventful narrative force, causing it to exceed its literary status by virtue of its rootedness in “the real.” “The real” is anecdotal: short, interesting, and unreliable in its detail. Most importantly, it is phenomenological. Its phenomenological quality organizes the self-expression of knowledge around experiences familiar to contingent viewers. To put it simply, Fineman’s historeme is concerned not with the autopsy historians carry out, but with breathing life into the body of the past, reviving the 55 De fin.5.56. 56 Tranq.2.11. 57 Armstrong 2013: 171 quoting Sartre. 58 Corbeill 2004: 9. 59 Fineman 1989. 17 experience of history. By reviving experience, authors create a space that “lets history happen” as “an event within and yet without the framing context of historical successivity,” meaning that the body imparts a universal quality to the historeme that is constitutive of -- yet entirely free from -- its literary context. I offer a redefinition of the historeme that liberates it from its merely anecdotal status, identifying it instead as a neurophenomenological linguistic structure that carries moral weight, solicits intersubjectivity, and instantiates spontaneous communities defined by “movement in common” (motus animorum). I call such linguistic structures “prelinguistic historemes,” because they are “kernels of truth” that adapt to various forms of expression by virtue of being grounded in the probabilities of mundane bodily experiences that are effortlessly remembered and re-remembered across contexts to efficiently and effectively organize social knowledge. In arguing for this redefinition, I draw on a wide variety of examples from poetry and prose, ranging from Pacuvius and Horace to Sallust and Livy. To quickly recap, in Chapter One I adopt the position that language is grounded in bodily experience. In Chapter Two, I discuss the Roman habit of mirroring bodily experience in the environment (and vice versa), and suggest that this tactic helps to organize social knowledge and provide opportunities for the spontaneous formation of emotional communities. And in Chapter Three, I suggest that these organizing structures grounded in bodily experience represent a Bourdieusian version of Fineman’s “historeme.” That is to say, I suggest that historemes, “kernels of truth,” as I define them, provide le sens du jeu – a feel for the game – by quietly anchoring socioemotional knowledge in bodily experience. Chapter Four, the first of three case studies, develops the role of the body in historiographical narrative by comparing the legal record of events found in the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre to the telling of events by Tacitus. I selected this comparison because Corbeill notes that with Tiberius came “an inscrutable relationship between truth and 18 the body.” 60 I argue that Tacitus responds to this inscrutability by structuring his narrative around a conceptual metaphor that associates physical molestation with Tiberius’s speech and the investigation he proposes. I suggest that touch and the avoidance impulses associated with it in Roman culture underpin Tiberius’s speech, such that the implicit “touch” of Tiberius -- and the impulse to avoid it -- is embedded in the narrative so as to speak to the sanitized telling of events the tablets are thought to contain. I focus further on avoidance responses in Tacitus by concentrating on his use of aspernor, the etymology of which grounds it in movement away and down. It is used by Tacitus almost exclusively in the context of power negotiations. Notably, he also uses the term when writing in his own voice, referring to the rejection of material by the reader, thereby revealing his own task as historiographer to be one that involves touch and therefore a certain kind of power that is being self-consciously negotiated. Attention to bodily meaning, even at the word-level, I argue, helps us to understand more precisely how authors, much like the figures they write about, wield a particular sort of power with a certain kind of authority that subjects them to judgment processes grounded in movement away and down. Chapter Five examines the relationship between comprehension (comprehendo) and denial (aspernor) through the lens of Stoicism. Stoicism is a most appropriate case study because its conception of knowledge was encapsulated by a metaphor that equates understanding with grasping (a form of touch). Furthermore, Seneca, whose unique brand of Stoicism is my focus, identifies unwanted touch as that which one responds to with aspernatio. When we reject authority, we push down and away with our feet. When we accept it, we grasp it with our hands. These mental activities are equally understood as avoidance-approach, dissent-assent, and kick-grab. Sentiment has a similar structure. Toward is good, away is bad. I suggest these basic movements can help us to better understand the 60 Corbeill 2004: 10; 167. 19 pre-emotions (principia proludentia adfectibus) Seneca says are evoked by, among other things, prose literature. To more deeply examine the mental-grasping concept, I look at Seneca’s use of comprehendere, which figures most prominently in his Epistles and Naturales Quaestiones. In the latter of these texts, the term is concerned with understanding fate, time, cause, and the movement of wind and water, the latter of which is associated with emotion by the Stoics. Seneca’s De ira, a treatise on emotion, was explicitly concerned with its readers comprehending anger and the movements associated with it, so I focus on this text and read with this in mind. I concentrate on the opening of the treatise, which I argue is structured around a simple yet productive metaphor (anger is an on-rushing wave) which is grounded in interoceptive bodily experience (rushing blood) that has been expressed through natural features of the environment (a crashing wave). I argue that such structuring, together with related wordplay, provides a common point of departure for Seneca’s readers, whom he views as fellow travelers on the quest for truth. In other words, I suggest that the body as a point of departure is central to our understanding of how a community of readers which “grasps” and “kicks” together is formed. The final case study turns to a genre filled with prelinguistic historemes -- the ancient novel – wherein we find complex blends of avoidance-approach schemas, interoceptive metaphors, and Stoic thought. The main focus is on the development of Psyche’s character in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses, which I argue takes place by way of bodily allusions to erotic poetry, scientific texts, and theories of Stoic vision. I next provide a mini-index of passages from the Metamorphoses, together with the other literary works discussed in this thesis, in order to show the pervasiveness of prelinguistic historemes in the novel and Roman literature more generally. Prelinguistic historemes, I argue, open a threshold through which norms and values are transmitted to a particular sociolinguistic group. I conclude by suggesting that the 20 habit of provincial writers, like Apuleius, to exhaustively imitate and innovate ancient models in an effort to bind the margins of the empire to its center, 61 has socioemotional motivations that are best understood in terms of embodied cognition. In my conclusion, I summarize how my approach enables previously unrecognized patterns of expression in Roman texts to be systematically studied, thereby affording distant readers the ability to more fully evaluate how emotion was understood, structured, and expressed by Roman authors. I also posit that awareness of such expression is important to the study of the reception of the texts by historically contingent readers. 61 See Edwards 2001: 48. 21 Chapter One A Cognitive Sociological Approach to Latin Texts This project investigates embodiment and intersubjectivity as forces that shaped the production and reception of ancient texts. This introductory chapter outlines the fundamentals of embodied cognition, the nature of its simulations, its situatedness in culture, and its role in sociological approaches to history and literature. More specifically, it defines intersubjectivity in terms of intercorporeality, that is, in terms of the communicative potential of the body as an integrated component of cognition. Intercorporeality, thus defined, will be shown in Chapter Two to represent a stable conceptualization of human psychology and behavior in both ancient and modern periods. In preparation for that discussion, this chapter will also suggest that intercorporeality is key to utilizing Bourdieu’s habitus to better understand the generative structure of ancient texts. 62 The attention to intercorporeality I suggest in this chapter will be argued throughout this thesis to enable cultural historians to more completely seek answers to a fundamental question posed by Bourdieu: How can we tell when a habitus has changed, varied or remained the same? 63 EMBODIMENT AND INTERSUBJECTIVITY Embodied cognition, as described by Mark Johnson, theorizes that what we call “mind” and what we call “body” are not two things, but are rather aspects of one organic process, and the meaning we attribute to things, ideas, and events springs from the bodily conditions of life. 64 That is to say, the meaning carried by language is grounded in bodily experience. In this vein, proponents of embodied cognition have submitted evidence for various aspects of cognition 62 See Maton 2014: 60-61; org. pub. 2008. I employ habitus as a thinking tool throughout this thesis for the reasons Bourdieu himself laid out. According to him, all practices are generated by habitus, so all practices offer evidence of the structures of the habitus that structured them. 63 Ibid. 64 Johnson 2007: 1. 22 being dependent upon or influenced by the body beyond the brain, suggesting that thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are grounded in sensory experiences and bodily states. 65 Such findings form the contention that mental processes of all kinds involve simulations of bodily perceptions and actions. 66 The term “simulation” in this context refers to the reactivation or reuse of the neural networks that encode our bodily experiences of the world. Such reuse has been explained in a variety of different, not mutually exclusive, ways. 67 One prevalent theory is that we evolved from creatures whose neural resources were devoted primarily to perceptual and motoric processing, 68 another is that complex mental processes reuse evolutionarily older programs. 69 Others emphasize developmental processes and suggest that our early experiences with the physical world (e.g., moving around in space) structure our later understanding or representation of more abstract concepts (e.g., likes and dislikes), a process referred to as scaffolding. 70 In any case, the central tenet of embodiment theories is essentially that we are brain-body organisms which rely on sensory information to understand and explain not only our physical but also our mental experiences. Embodied cognition thus falls under the heading of “distributed cognition” by virtue of its claim that aspects of an agent's body beyond the brain, such as the motor system, the perceptual system, and bodily interactions with the environment, play a significant causal or physically constitutive role in cognitive processing. This role, in turn, has the potential to affect linguistic practice and impact social behaviors. 71 65 For review see Barsalou 2008; Spellman and Schnall 2009. See also Columbetti 2014. 66 See e.g. Lakoff and Johnson 1980; 1999; Lakoff 2008; Gallese and Lakoff 2005; Gallese and Cuccio 2015. 67 For summary and discussion see Meier, Schnall, Schwartz, and Bargh 2012. 68 Wilson 2002: 625. 69 Anderson 2010. 70 Williams, Huang, and Bargh 2009. 71 https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/embodied-cognition/#MetCog. 23 Intersubjectivity -- a key component of social behavior – generally refers to the common-sense, shared meanings constructed and used as an everyday resource to interpret elements of social and cultural life. 72 In contrast to solipsistic individual experience, intersubjectivity is seen as a feature of our inherently social nature that is argued by many to be a product of embodied cognition. For example, Shannon Spaulding suggests that primary intersubjectivity is “the pre-theoretical, non-conceptual, embodied understanding of others that underlies and supports higher-level cognitive skills.” 73 It is defined by Shaun Gallagher as “the innate or early developing capacity to interact with others manifested at the level of perceptual experience – we see or more generally perceive in the other person’s bodily movements [etc.] what they intend and what they feel.” 74 Gallagher, together with Daniel Hutto, therefore contends that embodied intersubjective practices constitute our primary mode of social cognition. 75 This line of thought can be traced back to Jean Piaget, who suggested that analogical transfers, embodied schemas, and bodily operations underpin knowledge that is inherently social, practical, and grounded in action, 76 arguing that the analogical transfers that embodied, experience-derived schemas produce are evidence of “assimilation.” 77 “Assimilation” was defined by Piaget as a process through which action schemas are applied to new situations. 78 The application of schematic information across contexts, according to Piaget, occurs because all “higher order” mental operations have their 72 Definition as provided by Arolker and Seale in Seale 2012: 574. 73 Spaulding 2014: 198. While it would be a distraction from the main points being made here, it is worth noting that embodied intersubjectivity is generally held to be non-representational, rejecting both the Theory Theory and Simulation Theory models that constitute “theory of mind.” TT holds that we use an information rich folk- psychology to determine the intentions and interpret that actions of others. ST holds that we map an information poor model onto our own experiences and rely on imaginative representations to carry out intersubjective processes. 74 See Gallagher 2005: 204. 75 See Hutto 2008. 76 Gruber and Voneche 1995: 869-870 as cited by Lizardo 2004. 77 Piaget also discusses “accommodation,” which happens when the existing schema (knowledge) does not work, and needs to be changed to deal with a new object or situation. While relevant to a larger discussion, this aspect of Piaget’s theory will not be explored here. 78 As cited by Lizardo 2004: 387. See Piaget 1970. 24 foundation in “lower order” motor operations, 79 which suggests that enacted belief is instilled by childhood learning that treats the body as “a living memory pad and repository for the most precious values” -- the form par excellence of “blind or symbolic thought.” 80 Intersubjectivity, then, as I will refer to it, is our ability to interpret the body in a manner consistent with that of those with whom we are socially engaged. We will next turn to embodied semantics and embodied simulation. These concepts will be used in the chapters to come to illustrate the bearing of intersubjectivity and Piaget’s “blind or symbolic thought” on textual interpretation. EMBODIED SEMANTICS The analysis of ancient language in later chapters will focus on bodily schemas as they pertain to “semantic embodiment.” Semantic embodiment refers to the hypothesis that claims language, as an inherently social phenomenon, develops in form and use under the influence of our engagement with the world as embodied organisms. This hypothesis argues that the meaning of many, if not most, words, concepts, and constructions is grounded in knowledge about bodily states and actions that are organized into schemas. 81 Such schemas therefore represent organized systems of knowledge derived from awareness of the location and orientation of the body’s various parts, their relative motion in space and time, and their functional integrity. 82 These organized systems of knowledge in turn constitute a naturalistic system of meaning-making, the logic of which is derived from the recruitment of cognitive resources developed through sensorimotor experience by the higher cognitive faculties of conceptualization and reasoning. 83 Proponents of embodiment suggest that this system of 79 Piaget 1970 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 388. 80 Bourdieu 1990 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 388. 81 For seminal work see Lakoff and Johnson 1980. See also Lakoff and Johnson 1999; Lakoff 2008; Gallese and Lakoff 2005. 82 Definition as provided by Mendoza in Kreutzer, DeLuca, and Caplan 2011: 427-428. 83 Johnson 2007: 10. 25 meaning making directly impacts language on both morphological and semantic levels, arguing, for example, that spatial concepts, such as “front,” “back,” “up,” and “down” provide clear cases of embodied experience instituting linguistic expression, as these concepts are articulated in terms of the body's position in and movement through space. 84 Proponents of semantic embodiment further suggest that language involving spatial position and movement has the potential to convey and produce mundane judgments (e.g. judgments of moral propriety or impropriety, of likelihood or unlikelihood, of certainty or uncertainty, or judgments of taste, such as likes and dislikes). 85 From this view, embodied experience is seen to underwrite common-sense understandings of abstract social phenomena, and is involved in the sharing of subjective states by two or more individuals. Consider the phrase “writing this dissertation has been an uphill battle.” Its comprehension is made possible by the natural recruitment of embodied experience (i.e. walking up an incline is physically demanding, saps strength, taxes the cardiopulmonary system, etc.). We can use bodily experience to express and understand mundane judgments about social relations just as we do things like “dissertations,” “the writing process,” and “grad school”. For example, a “bad” relationship is often described as a “distant” one, whereas a “good” relationship is often described as a “close” one, because we are often physically proximate to people we like and physically distant from people we dislike. 86 The ability we have to express and comprehend mundane judgments about mental activity and social relationships springs from our embodiment. Representations of physical experience map onto various assessments of mental activities and social relationships, which is due to the embodiment of cognition and the fundamental role of the body in meaning-making that is both produced by and productive of intersubjectivity. 84 Wilson and Foglia 2017: https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/embodied-cognition. 85 Lizardo 2013. 86 Meier, Schnall, Schwartz and Bargh 2012: 2. 26 The seminal discussion of the role of embodied experience in language production and comprehension, especially in terms of metaphorical expression, is Lakoff and Johnson’s Metaphors We Live By (1980). Lakoff and Johnson forwarded the hypothesis that we use what we know about our physical experience to provide understanding of countless other subjects by analogy. This early work drew attention to the diversity of expression that embodiment underlies. Take as an example that one might describe someone with whom one has a “close” relationship as having a “warm” personality. Proximity leading to the perception of warmth mirrors physical realities: physical proximity enables the perception of bodily temperature. This meaning emerges from the body as a consequence of its interactions with the world: (physical) proximity “is” (social) closeness, so “closeness” enables the perception of (bodily-as-social) warmth. Warmth, the product of thermoregulation processes that respond to the body’s environment and internal conditions in an effort to achieve and maintain homeostasis, thus transcends the body upon which it depends for its perception in order to create meaning in the social world. Such transcendence fundamentally depends upon an experiential understanding of a concrete relation between physical bodies. Some scholars have already made efforts to demonstrate the applicability of embodied semantics to classical Latin. Maurizio Bettini, for example, has suggested there exists a matrix of spatial representations of time which is evident in the thought and language of ancient Romans. 87 In particular, he focuses on representations wherein the unknown character of the future is reflected by embodied, vision-based construals that place the future behind (rather than in front of) a subject. 88 While I do not agree with Bettini’s prioritization of linear conceptualizations of time, his point that when a dimension of the construal is “knowledge,” then the future is not visible and is thus behind you, is a perfect example of embodied 87 Bettini 1991; For more recent scholarship in this vein see Short 2016. 88 Ibid. 27 meaning driving linguistic expression. 89 Additionally, through the study of conceptual metaphor in ancient thought, valuable discoveries of diachronically consistent conceptual networks have been made. For example, the body was construed as a container from which emotion flows or bursts by Latin authors. 90 Another example is that thoughts were conceived as having tangible qualities, like shape and weight, while the mind is accordingly construed of as haptic, taking part in activities like touching and grasping. 91 These examples represent embodied conceptual metaphors that are cross-culturally consistent, 92 which suggests that an embodied perspective can account for at least some figurative practices in ancient authors, as well as our ability to understand them despite gulfs of time and culture. 93 EMBODIED SIMULATION The primary argument of embodied semantics is that the schemas that underpin meaning- making function by way of embodied simulation. Embodied simulation claims that the power of language to simulate sensory and thereby lived (i.e. embodied) experience relies on perception and memory, which in turn rely on neural processes involving information from all sensory modalities (visual, auditory, visceral, tactile, and so forth), producing cognitions that include the simulations of bodily states which often occur subconsciously. 94 “Embodied simulation” thus refers to the sentient first-person perspective taken during comprehension and meaning-making. This is even the case when the communication is about abstract things like time, emotion, and comprehension itself (again citing Bettini, Riggsby, and Short, respectively). This perspective is not solipsistic, because bodily experience underpinning language that to at least some extent facilitates intersubjectivity has the potential to inspire 89 See Bettini 1991: 151ff. 90 Riggsby 2015. 91 Short 2012. 92 On the ubiquity of conceptual metaphors like these in a wide variety of languages see Kövecses 2005. 93 For a variety of scholarship on embodied semantics in Latin language and literature, see Short 2016a. 94 See Damasio and Damasio 2010. 28 fellow-feeling about socially relevant issues. That is to say, it is the inherent similarity of bodies that enables intersubjectivity to emerge through language: meaning is created by virtue of a semantic web generated by the common body. This semantic web, which is derived from the blueprint of our bodies, our senses, and our shared physical world, supplies the architecture for the common understandings we use to create, or rather, co-create meaning, 95 and thus it has the potential to influence reasoning. 96 Emerging from bodily experience, reasoning is therefore, in part, the product of human conceptual systems that are grounded in perception, movement, and other experiences of a bodily nature. It has been argued that, for this reason, language grounded in the semantics of the body enables us to creatively make sense of people, objects, actions, and events that occur all around us. 97 For example, the “Neural Theory of Language” (NTL) developed by Jerome Feldman (2006) and George Lakoff (2008) posits that sense making corresponds directly to mental simulation, that is, to the (re)activation of the same neural systems involved in actually perceiving or performing some activity in the world. Bodily interactions with the world leave traces of experience in the brain that are retrieved and used to understand and form judgments about the world around us, both physical and social. 98 Suggestion that neural reuse is a vital element of intersubjectivity comes from a variety of studies. For example, when we “merely” imagine a visual scene, we to some degree activate the same cortical visual areas of our brain active during perception. 99 Similarly, motor imagery and real action both stimulate a common network of cortical and subcortical motor centers, such as the primary motor cortex, the premotor cortex, the 95 See Yu 2008; Gibbs 2005: 67; Schubert et al. 2008 as cited by Devereaux 2016. 96 See Damasio 1994; Damasio and Damasio 2006 for bodily components of reasoning; in language see (e.g.) Lakoff 2008. 97 See Kaschak et al. 2009 and Thelen et al. 2001 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 243. 98 See Zwann & Madden 2005; Glenberg 2008: 43; Zwann and Taylor 2006; Gibbs 2005a; Zwann 2004 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 243. 99 See Wehbe et al. 2014; Lacey and Lawson 2013; Jeannerod 2001; Kosslyn 1994; Kosslyn et al. 1993; Le Bihan et al. 1993; Reisberg 1992; Farah 1989; Shepard 1984; Finke 1980; Kosslyn et al. 1978 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 243. 29 supplementary motor area (SMA), the basal ganglia, and the cerebellum. 100 For instance, imagining the performance of physical exercise results in several bodily parameters behaving as if the actions were actually being executed. 101 Other studies have even revealed that reading or listening to verbs or sentences about action automatically produce motor impulses corresponding to that action. 102 For example, reading sentences that involve giving or receiving objects modulates motor system activity as measured in the hand, 103 and seeing a picture depicting someone kicking or simply hearing the word “kick” activates areas of the brain responsible for that particular motor movement. 104 Moreover, evidence suggests that the understanding of even conventional metaphoric action retains a link to sensory-motor systems involved in action performance. 105 In short, the same neural substrate used in imagining is used in understanding both the literal and figurative dimensions of language. 106 For the sake of illustration, let us compare a common experience in the modern world to an event detailed in ancient myth. Let’s say the train I am on has come to an unexpected stop. I am now likely going to be late for an important meeting. I feel stress. What do I text to my colleague, whose help I will need in order to save face? Probably something like “I’m stuck on the train and now I’m really stretched for time, could you please set up for me?” Though neither I nor my colleague are physically being held in one place while extending our bodies until feeling a burn in our muscles, the feeling I am having (wanting desperately to be out of the situation) is mutually understood, because we share bodily memory of this most basic experience from the time of infancy (See Fig. 1 below). And, because we are engaged in the 100 See Gallese and Wojciehowski 2011; Lakoff 2008: 20; Schnitzler et al. 1997; Porro et al. 1996; Roth et al. 1996; Jeannerod 1994; Fox et al. 1987 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 243. 101 See Clark et al. 2014 and Decety et al. 1991. See Fischer and Zwann 2008 for review. See Yue and Cole 1992 and Cuthbert et al. 1991. As cited in Devereaux 2016: 244. 102 See Klepp et al. 2014; Raposo 2009; Pulvermüller 2008 and 2005; Buccino et al. 2005 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 244. 103 Glenberg et al. 2008; Aziz-Zadeh 2006 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 244. 104 Tettamanti er al. 1995; Hauk et al. 2004; Kable et al. 2002 as cited in Devereaux 2016: 244. 105 See Desai et al. 2011 as cited by Devereaux 2016: 244. 106 Gallese & Lakoff 2005: 456. See Pulvermüller 2008. For summary see Lakoff 2008 and Feldman 2006; see also Zwann 2004; Farah 2000; Kosslyn and Thompson 2000. As cited in Devereaux 2016: 244. 30 same social field, the significance of which will be detailed in the coming chapters, chances are that my colleague will grasp and contextualize my emotional experience with some accuracy, and with that information he or she may decide to help me out or not. Now let’s look at the myth of Daphne and Apollo, which also involves getting helped out of a tough spot. In the myth, as it is told by Ovid, Daphne, desperate to escape the amorous advances of Apollo, is transformed into a tree by her father, a river god. Her transformation, which occurs at the height of her desperation, is described by her quick feet (pes velox) sticking to the ground (haeret) and her arms stretching skyward (crescunt). 107 Let’s now think about Daphne with the help of Bernini’s 1625 sculpture (Fig. 2.): Fig 1.108 Fig. 2.109 107 Met.1.549-50. 108 www.gettyimages.co.uk/detail/photo/crying-baby-reaching-for-mother-royalty-free-image/74010161. 109 https: //commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category: Apollo_and_Daphne_(Bernini)#/media/File: Apollo_and_Daphne_by_Bernini_(Galleria_Borghese).jpg. 31 If we consider that Daphne embodies virginal chastity and the anxiety adolescent girls may have felt about sex and marriage, one could argue that Bernini captured a particular mental disposition and feeling-state associated with particular bodily movements within a particular culture (or cultures). The same argument can be made about my text about being stuck on a train. The same bodily state (stuck and stretching) thus communicates a central idea, namely “I want out of this situation” and “I am seeking social cooperation to that end,” but for different reasons and in different contexts. This is a very simple way to illustrate how bodily movement scaffolds social knowledge, regardless of the medium in which it is employed. Daphne will be returned to in a later chapter, together with the suggestion that the affective structuring of narrative through the kinetic body occurs in ancient texts. For now, I want to focus on further defining intercorporeal scaffolding. Proponents of embodied simulation suggests that the mutual resonance of intentionally meaningful sensorimotor behaviors and the relational nature of action underpin at least part of our ability to understand others. 110 According to this hypothesis, intercorporeality is the basis for intersubjectivity, the former giving rise to the latter by way of the reuse of mental states or processes. This reuse, they argue, constitutes the primordial source of knowledge that we have of others. 111 In other words, because resemblances of mental states or processes between agents arise from the reuse of mental states or processes, it is mental reuse that drives our ability to understand others as thinking, feeling, intentional agents. 112 Vittorio Gallese and Vittoria Cuccio (2015), for example, suggest that the reuse of motor knowledge is an example of “paradigmatic knowledge” in the Aristotelian sense, meaning that paradeigmata always proceed from what 110 See also on the mirror neuron system: Iacoboni 2009; Rizzolatti & Craighero 2004, who underline that cognition is not only socially but also biologically distributed across agents because the architecture of the human perceptuomotor system is specifically designed for the reproduction of movements of conspecifics in a privileged way (see Buccino et al. 2004). 111 See Gallese 2007. 112 See Hurley 2008. 32 is first, best known, most immediate, and most easily accessible to us. 113 This notion of intercorporeality stems from the hypothesis that our bodily acting and sensing nature appears to constitute the non-further-reducible basis upon which our experience of the world is built. 114 This irreducibility was commented upon in the 1980’s by AI-investigator Hans Moravek, who discovered that sensorimotor processing requires more resources than higher- order reasoning. This discovery led Moravek to believe that “the deliberate process we call reasoning is the thinnest veneer of human thought, effective only because it is supported by much older and much powerful, though usually unconscious, sensorimotor knowledge.” 115 In this direction, Gallese postulates that it is possible to connect the common prelinguistic sphere to the linguistic one by demonstrating that language, when it refers to the body in action, brings into play the neural resources normally used to move that very same body. 116 According to this hypothesis, he writes, “it is possible to directly understand others’ basic actions by means of the motor equivalence between what others do and what the observer can do.” 117 In other words, neural reactivation accounts for the body and its movements effortlessly creating and sustaining meaning. The simulated body is a semantic body. Before we move on, I want to acknowledge that the empirical evidence cited herein may be viewed by some as controversial. I think Gallese and Cuccio’s thesis, which is based on this evidence, is completely reasonable, because the body being a sine qua non of meaning-making represents a basic way in which humans conceive of their own behavior and psychology. It is undeniable that humans explore and explain the world with their bodies, 113 See also Gallese 2016; Glenberg and Gallese 2012; Gallese and Lakoff 2005. 114 See Gallese and Cuccio 2015: 3n6. 115 Moravek 1988. 116 See Gallese and Lakoff 2005; Glenberg and Gallese 2012; Gallese and Cuccio 2015. 117 Gallese 2016. This is not to suggest that individuals with limited motor capabilities cannot participate in the same meaning-making process. Even those who have inhibited or even paralysed motor systems from birth can rely on motor-recognition centres of the brain to support meaning-making, thanks to evolutionary processes, even if this is the result of the brain “rewiring” unused areas to increase the scaffolding that comes from other perceptual modalities. On cross-modal rewiring see e.g. Collignon et al. 2009; Bengoetxea et al. 2012. My point is that while Gallese speaks in normative terms, his hypothesis does not preclude meaning-making of this sort from taking place under diverse neurological conditions. 33 which are uniquely suited to meaning making. As we will see in Chapter Two, the semantic body was understood by ancient authors in ways that are wholly compatible with embodiment theories which claim that paradigmatic knowledge is generally that which arises from the experience of our bodies. Our modern understanding of the neural mechanisms that underpin bodily meaning-making therefore provides a sturdy framework within which distant readers can better understand the phenomena exhibited and discussed by ancient authors, which is why I selected it as my methodology. SOCIALLY SITUATED COGNITION As Vittorio Gallese observes: “The hard problem that pertains to social cognition is to understand how the epistemic gulf separating single individuals can be overcome.” 118 As the previous sections have demonstrated, embodiment and the simulations produced by the brain- body organism offer an answer: social cognition is biologically grounded and relies on a pre- given generic and generative process developed and carried out multimodally (i.e. through our senses). 119 Our experience of the world, and our functioning in it, is constrained by a set of relatively invariable conditions (e.g., ecological, existential, material), including our body morphology. 120 These together shape our actions, interactions, and the knowledge we derive and accumulate from them. 121 As mentioned above, this is an idea that found its genesis, in large part, in the work of Jean Piaget’s developmental psychology. Piaget made the case that cognitive abilities grow out from sensorimotor abilities. More recent suggestions of this come from (e.g.) the philosophy of Andy Clark, who suggests that the body and its interaction with its environment provides the scaffolding for language, which allows “thought about thought” and “thinking about thinking.” 122 Support also comes from developments in behavior-based 118 Gallese 2006: 16. 119 See (e.g.) Semin and Smith 2008 on grounded cognition. 120 Semin, Garrido and Palma 2013. 121 Semin, Garrido and Palma 2013. 122 Clark 2011. 34 robotics. Rodney Brooks, for example, provides evidence for intelligent behavior being a result of the direct coupling of perception, action, and world. 123 Clark and Brooks in turn harmonize with Wolfgang Prinz’s common coding theory, which claims a shared representation or “common code” for perception and action (i.e. seeing an event activates the action associated with that event, and performing an action activates the associated perceptual event). 124 The logic produced by this “common code” is fundamental and thus bears on higher-order cognitive abilities, like those associated with the expression and comprehension of figurative language. Language is the social tool par excellence. The processes mediating the relationship between language and bodily experience, as we have seen, have been addressed by research that demonstrates what is referred to as “motor resonance.” 125 This phenomenon has been addressed theoretically and empirically through neurophysiological, 126 action theoretical, 127 and cognitive frameworks. 128 These frameworks, to some extent already discussed in the sections above, suggest and offer evidence for language recruiting and activating the same neural substrates and motor programs that are active when a person is performing an action represented by language (or watching someone else perform that action), suggesting that the comprehension of concepts depends in large part on the activation of sensorimotor modalities that are recruited online and can be reactivated offline. 129 According to this theory of neural reuse, which falls under the sway of Piaget’s theory of assimilation, knowledge about categories that are represented by multimodal associative structures, once established in the brain, can be used across a number of cognitive tasks. As demonstrated here, a substantial 123 Brooks 1999. 124 Prinz 1990. 125 E.g., Glenberg 2008; Zwaan & Taylor 2006. 126 See (e.g.) Rizzolatti & Arbib 1998; Rizzolatti & Craighero 2004. 127 E.g., Hommel, Müsseler, Aschersleben and Prinz 2001. 128 See (e.g.) Barsalou 1999; Glenberg 2008. 129 Barsalou offered explanation for this process with “perceptual symbol systems” 1999, suggesting that multimodal stimuli give rise to online (i.e. conscious) experiences by inducing modal states in the somatosensory system and the visual system, as well as in the affective systems. 35 amount of research does in fact suggest that the comprehension of language takes place by means of sensorimotor simulations, indicating that sensations which arise in dedicated input systems during sensation and motor action can be stored and used offline (i.e. subconsciously) by means of mental simulations that have become functionally autonomous from their experiential sources. 130 It is for this reason that figurative expressions that involve concrete sensorimotor experience (e.g. she has a warm personality; he is quick on his feet; etc.) are both possible and meaningful. Of course, while research into language comprehension has provided evidence for motor modalities being involved in the comprehension of language describing actions, interpretations of embodied experiences vary according to the implicit memory derived from individual biographic experiences, and those experiences in turn are construed according to the culture in which they took place and the values placed on them by the socially situated individual. The unique and external influences that act upon our cognitions about embodied experience give rise to the theory of “situated cognition.” Situated cognition posits that all knowledge is positioned in activity bound to social, cultural and physical contexts. 131 Linguistic knowledge exists in situ, inseparable from context, activity, people, and culture. Linguistic representations of knowledge are created through social interactions that are perceived and acted upon by individuals through an ongoing dialectic between body and brain, self and other, perception and action. This dialectic is performed in coordination with the (re)activation of neural structures and processes. Linguistic representations that arise in situ are thus based on prelinguistic information, and social knowledge evolves through the assimilation of that information to new contexts. The meanings conveyed by bodily schemas develop as a consequence of neural connections reactivating in social situations which are 130 See Barsalou 2008: 618. 131 See (e.g.) Spivey, Richardson and Dale 2009. 36 perceived and/or conceived of as somehow similar to previous situations. These meaning- making schemas are autonomous and can assimilate to any number of contexts and generate meaning about any number of things. Cognition is thus “situated” because cultural and environmental contexts shape the meaning of sensorimotor experiences as well as the language used to represent knowledge extrapolated from them. Some such knowledge pertains to emotions and value judgments, which will be of central interest to the chapters ahead, in which we will explore the ways cultural and environmental contexts shape what is understood to trigger emotion and value judgments, as well as how participants in discourse express and display them. BOURDIEU’S HABITUS As I have stated above, the theories and research in support of embodied and situated cognition, above all else, represent a fundamental way in which human beings conceive of and understand their own psychology and behavior. It is with this in mind that I would like to now turn to Pierre Bourdieu’s habitus, which seeks to identify the internalization of the social order in the human body. Bourdieu suggests that the identification of the social order in the human body is possible because individuals operate within a system of social constraints that are derived from an historically engendered system of shared meaning, and the rules that govern their actions and behaviors are tacitly internalized by agents so that they may demonstrate appropriate practices and strategies (“le sens du placement et du jeu”). 132 Bourdieu’s habitus is a thinking tool intended to explore “the rules of the game” by transcending a number of deep-seated dichotomies that shape ways of thinking about the social world. 133 The most 132 Bourdieu 1997: 21. 133 Maton 2014: 48; org. pub. 2008. 37 “fundamentally ruinous” dichotomy that Bourdieu sought to address with habitus is that between objectivism and subjectivism, both of which are essential to understanding the social world. 134 Denying that the world can be reduced to either phenomenology or social physics, Bourdieu argues that there is an “ontological complicity” between objective and subjective structures, which is the result of what he terms “the objectivity of the subjective.” 135 The objectivity of the subjective, which will be of central concern to the case studies I will later provide, refers to individual or subjective consciousness internalizing an objective structure and thus becoming recursive when faced with that structure. That is to say, social structures are composed of individuals using practical action to reproduce them, which makes such structures generative of the practical actions that sustain them. 136 By performing such actions, individuals “self-reference” their subjective experience, which is both productive of and produced by an objective structure composed of multiple individuals similarly self- referencing. The nature of this self-reference, which is done through physical action appropriate to the environment in which it is carried out, is embodied and situated, which is a result of (and is resultant of) “everything we know about the world [being] both established and developed as a consequence of individual acts of perception.” 137 Here we can see that Bourdieu was influenced by Jean Piaget’s suggestion that analogical transfers, embodied schemas, and bodily operations underpin knowledge that is inherently social, practical, and grounded in action. 138 This is especially clear in light of Piaget’s assertion that the creation of meaning is carried out by “a systematic, universal application that extends beyond the limits of what has been directly learnt,” 139 meaning that knowledge and all higher forms of 134 Bourdieu 1990: 25. 135 Bourdieu 1990: 135 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 380. 136 Lizardo 2004: 379-80. 137 Grenfell 2014: 45; org. pub 2008. 138 Gruber and Voneche 1995: 869-70 as cited by Lizardo 2004. 139 Bourdieu 1984 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 392. 38 symbolic thought arise from the more concrete and physical level of bodily action and practice. 140 As discussed above in terms of embodied simulation, mental simulations of bodily experience become functionally autonomous and aid in structuring abstract thought in language. A product and process of what already-has-been, the body, through simulation, creates values which shape ways of not only doing but also saying things. 141 Bourdieu conceived of the causal structure responsible for this by combining a structuralist view of culture as an instrument of communication and knowledge based on a shared consensus of the world, with a functionalist view of human knowledge as the product of a social infrastructure. 142 Knowledge results from social infrastructure, and that knowledge becomes an instrument of communication because there is a shared consensus of the world among communicators. Those communicators, as well as the social structures they (re)produce, are thus “structured structures predisposed to act as structuring structures.” 143 According to Bourdieu, “structures” are the product and produce of symbolic systems identifiable through logic and practice. 144 The body is how the individual becomes “symbolic” in the same way objective structures do. Bourdieu was thus interested in studying human beings as symbolic systems of organization operating within symbolic systems of organization. Habitus, as the subjective element of practice, provides entry into the matrix of thought and action produced by objective subjectivity. 145 For a simple example of how such a matrix influences our experience of literature, take Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, the main themes of which are moral. The dichotomy of corruption and purity is summed up in Escalus’s observation that “some rise by 140 Lizardo 2004: 387. 141 Grenfell 2014: 45; org.pub. 2008. 142 Ibid. 143 Bourdieu 1977 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 378; Grenfell 2014: 45; org.pub. 2008. 144 Bourdieu 1971 as cited by Grenfell 2014: 45; org.pub. 2008. 145 Grenfell 2014: 47; org.pub. 2008. 39 sin, and some by virtue fall” (II. i. 38). For some, social capital is gained by immoral means, which is akin to standing up, while for others, social capital is lost by acting virtuously, which is akin to slipping or falling down. The body – Piaget’s “memory pad of precious values” – is vital to the interpretation of this line. Social hierarchies are conceived of in terms of bodily structure, with power, much like the head, reigning at the top. This structure also governs moral judgments which associate up with “good” and down with “bad.” The dissonance created by the internalized notion of social capital as a moral good is the point, which is subsequently detailed through wordplay that links “moral slips” with the overgrowth of “slips of weeds,” an unwanted botanical growth that grows upwards, further linking moral turpitude with the “goods” of social status and power. 146 Through this very simple example, one can see that the body allows Shakespeare to project patterns from a concrete domain of experience to structure abstract domains of experience and craft social commentary. The social world is mapped onto the body, which allows for any number of simultaneous, self- referencing metaphors to grow from its internalization. 147 In this way, we can see that even practical belief is a state of body rather than a state of mind, composed of a preverbal taken for granted that flows from practical sense. 148 The information effortlessly provided by bodily schemas can thus be thought of as “analogous to the rhythm of a line of verse whose words have been forgotten.” 149 Embodied metaphor is able to constitute social worlds and express judgments about them through the creative adaptation of bodily position and movement. This ability functions to (re)generate the recursion between social structures and individuals by producing “a logic performed directly in bodily gymnastics” 150 which is necessitated by the learning conditions 146 For discussion see Yachnin and Neilson 2015: 187-210. 147 See Johnson 1987; Lakoff and Johnson 1980. 148 See Lizardo 2004: 388 149 Bourdieu 1990 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 388. 150 Bourdieu 1990 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 390. 40 of what Bourdieu termed “embodied structures-in-habitus.” 151 He derives this term from what he identifies as a system of lasting transposable dispositions which, by integrating past experiences, functions at every moment as a matrix of perceptions, appreciations, and actions. 152 So, as we see in the Shakespearean example above, there is a mutually constitutive relationship which obtains between the objective world of bodies and the subjective social world of status and virtue, as his metaphors of upward and downward movement in relation to otherwise arbitrary hierarchies and moral judgments demonstrate. Habitus as the semantic body is the link between the social and the individual, creating through recursion a “dialectic of the internalization of externality and the externalization of internality.” 153 WHY A COGNITIVE SOCIOLOGICAL APPROACH? In the chapters that follow, it will be argued that habitus, Bourdieu’s relational model of thought, is visible in Latin texts by way of the semantic body, which enables the transcendence of the social/individual dichotomy through language. Bourdieu’s concept of “field,” which develops the significance of this transcendence, will be explicated and explored in later chapters. As we now move into Chapter Two, which will situate the notion of the semantic body in Roman culture, what is important to bear in mind is that habitus orients our study, and habitus is, by virtue of the relationship of the body to the social world, recursive. Intersubjectivity and embodied semantics produce and are products of habitus, which reactivates bodily knowledge in order to communicate abstract concepts, thereby (re)producing ideas and beliefs about human psychology and behavior. In order for habitus to function recursively, it has been argued, the internal structure of it must be able to be 151 Bourdieu 1996: 38 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 381. 152 Bourdieu 1977: 95 as cited by Lizardo 2004: 378. 153 Bourdieu 1977: 72 as cited by Maton 2014: 53. 41 described separate from whatever practices it gives rise to. 154 If the body itself represents the internal structure of habitus, it can indeed be described separate from any description of any practice it gives rise to, thus making it a “fully operative relational concept.” 155 Securing this status for habitus, as it has here been defined, is essential to its utility in analyzing texts as relational systems shaped by the feedback loop that exists between mind, body, and world. The status of the body as “operative” and “relational” is essential to habitus functioning as a method of inquiry for reasons expressed in Bourdieu’s identification of habitus with le sens du jeu (which will in the next chapter also be situated in Roman culture in terms of embodied semantics). Of le sens du jeu, Bourdieu says: You can use the analogy of the game in order to say that a set of people take part in a rule-bound activity, an activity which, without necessarily being the product of obedience to rules, obeys certain regularities. … Should one talk of a rule? Yes and no. You can do so on condition that you distinguish clearly between rule and regularity. The social game is regulated, it is the locus of certain regularities. 156 The body is regular but flexible: an ideal medium and mode for nuanced communication in rule-bound contexts. Recall the example of having a “warm” relationship with someone. We immediately self-reference when saying these phrases, because warmth is an embodied (read: operative) relational concept, and our use of it reinforces a social structure wherein “close” relationships have value. Is it a “rule” that warm is “good” and cold is “bad” in terms of human relationships? Yes and No. 157 Warmth and bodily contact is important to our survival as infants, which generates “the rule” that warmth and bodily proximity are “good.” That mundane social judgments are expressed in terms of bodily proximity and temperature is a regularity of a particular value system. The distinction between rules and regularities will be returned to in the chapters to come, in which we will explore the role of the body in shaping 154 See Boudon 1971: 51; 102 as cited by Maton 2014: 61. 155 See Lizardo 2004; 2012. 156 Bourdieu 1990: 64, original emphasis as cited by Maton 2014: 53. 157 See Hampe 2005. 42 the “practical logic of practice” that is of interest to students of culture, literature, and the history of emotion. The goal as we move forward will be to follow Bourdieu, “by going beyond the opposition that exists between structuralism and hermeneutics, between providing an objective account of social regularities and a subjective focus on the meaning-making of actors.” 158 Through the cognitive sociological account of ancient texts that follows – and more specifically by way of its philological interests – I will offer a generative, relational model for analysis that excavates beneath the surface of empirical phenomena 159 to identify a means by which texts can engage a collective moral identity that is able to arise spontaneously, intuitively, and even unconsciously. Given the modern state of information dissemination, this seems a worthwhile inquiry that should be of interest not only to classicists, but to students of human communicative and collective behavior more generally. And, given that I have met the burden of identifying an internal structure for habitus that can be described separately from a description of any practices it gives rise to, a Bourdieusian approach that utilizes embodied semantics seems reasonable and defensible. Hoping that the reader has been persuaded of this, I shall now move on to contextualize the concepts so far discussed in Roman culture and literary practice, before moving on to demonstrate the value of a cognitive-sociological approach to the study of Roman emotion through literature. 158 Maton 2014: 54; org. pub. 2008. 159 Maton 2014: 55; org. pub. 2008. 43 Chapter Two Situated Cognition and the Semantic Body As detailed in Chapter One, a general claim of embodied semantics is that because we experience the world with our bodies, knowledge pertaining to bodily experience and movement is best known and most immediately accessible to us. This highly accessible information is used in the generation and communication of abstract concepts, the shared understanding of which -- and especially the common evaluation of which -- constitutes intersubjectivity. One of the most abstract concepts humans have is that of “mind.” So abstract is this concept that an entire branch of philosophy is dedicated to defining it. A main argument in the Philosophy of Mind concerns dualism, which is largely attributed to Descartes, although it did not originate with him, 160 and monism, which holds that mind and body are not ontologically distinct kinds of entities. 161 Embodied cognition is not generally defined as monistic, 162 though it is decidedly non-dualistic. Embodiment is simply what one is logically left with upon rejecting psycho-physical dualism, and, as Chapter One has demonstrated, there is ample reason to reject dualism. This chapter will begin to demonstrate, with evidence found in ancient language itself, as well as in the topics it is used to discuss, that even if much philosophical thought in the ancient world appeals to dualist intuitions (Descartes had Plato and to some extent Aristotle 163 as inspirations), non-dualist intuitions 160 Dualism holds that mind and body are in some categorical way separate from each other. It can be traced back in various strands to Plato and Aristotle but it was most fully articulated in the theories of consciousness proposed by René Descartes and David Hume in the 17th and 18 th centuries. See Robinson 2017 (1.2): https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/dualism/ 161 The classical doctrine of monism is that the whole is prior to its (proper) parts. See Schaffer 2018: https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/monism/ 162 Certain “radical embodiment” theories defend “neutral monism,” a view that the mind and the world are composed of “pure experience,” which is in itself neither mental nor physical. Chemero 2011, for example, argues that neutral monism is compatible with enactive theories of cognition. I do not adopt or engage with this argument. 163 While it would require a dissertation of its own to properly address, it is worth noting that Aristotle had decidedly non-dualistic intuitions as well. For example, in his De anima (1.1, 403a6-b19), he states that the affections of the soul (pathê) are physiological (i.e. enmattered) enuloi logoi (“structuring principles”) and that in some sense every mental act is a physiological process, including perception and possibly even thinking in general. 44 concerning human thought and behavior were also present in the ancient world -- and not only in philosophical discourse. For those readers sceptical of the value of identifying ancient antecedents for modern theories, I would point out that such observations stand on their own merit for affording a better understanding of the ancient world. Moreover, the juxtaposition of ancient and modern intuitions pertaining to embodied consciousness provides deeper insight into both ancient and modern patterns of thought and expression. In order to demonstrate this, the sections of this chapter correspond to those of Chapter One. The first section, Mind-Body Analogy, looks at several Latin mind-body analogies together with Seneca’s identification of analogiae as elements of moral reasoning that encourage intersubjectivity. The second section, Motus Animi, demonstrates that the semantic body enables Roman authors to express internal experience through schemas that both internalize objective and externalize subjective structures. Section three, Motus Animorum and Principia Proludentia Adfectibus, examines representations of “group mind” as “movement,” as well as the “origins” of such “social movements” in Roman emotional life. The fourth section, Memory Pads and Emotional Regimes, explores Seneca’s non-dualistic understanding of the language of mental and social life, demonstrating his understanding of the body’s ability to “remember.” Section five explores the idea of enargeia as “bodily art” wherein mind and body “think together,” exploring the possibility of such art providing le sens du jeu. The concluding section defines a cognitive-sociological approach to ancient texts in the most basic terms of constitutive rhetoric, a theory of discourse about the capacity of language or other symbols to create a collective identity for an audience. 164 Before moving forward, a brief clarification: As stated in Chapter One, the body as a sine qua non of meaning-making represents a basic way in which humans conceive of their 164 White 1985. 45 own behavior and psychology. This chapter will demonstrate, from a variety of sources in the Republican and Imperial periods, that while not all manner of expression demands cohesive prelinguistic scaffolding, it can be found to exist in a wide variety of texts, which suggests that such scaffolding is a feature of literary expression generally speaking. Some texts seem to evince scaffolding more than others, but prelinguistic material does not appear to be limited by genre or socioliterary period. The semantic body was on the minds of ancient Romans during various periods of history and within various schools of thought. However, because the notion of the body being implicated in all manner of cognition was widely explored by the younger Seneca, his sentiments will take special place. This is done not to suggest that the Stoics had the market cornered when it came to reasoning about embodied cognition. I limit the scope for the sake of order and coherence: the case studies that comprise the second half of this thesis focus on Stoic concepts and prose authors of the Imperial period. Therefore, while I will point to evidence of the ubiquity of embodied conceptualizations through a variety of examples in this chapter, my argument will develop to more specifically suggest that there is strong evidence for this feature of Roman texts flourishing during the 1 st -2 nd centuries CE. ANALOGIA As already touched upon in Chapter One, bodily states and experiences are used in modern languages to convey the quality of social relationships. Bodily states and experiences are also engaged to describe qualities of mind. For example, just as feet and hearts can “race,” as in “move quickly,” so can minds (e.g. her mind raced; he is mentally agile; she is quick on her feet, etc.). Embodiment as the underlying mechanism of evaluative analogies was to some degree intuited by ancient authors. Cicero, for example, relates that the transfer of bodily movement to the mind by analogy was a method used by Roman authors to express and 46 encourage appraisal. He illustrates this appraisal method with the example of quickness (celeritas), which can both refer to the agility of the body and function as praise of one’s mental activity. 165 But the tendency to express the subjective qualities of the mind with movement began long before Cicero. Aristotle, for example, in his treatise on rhetoric, identifies something along the lines of embodied consciousness (ἔμψυχος) characterizing Homer’s proportional metaphors (τῆς κατ᾽ ἀναλογίαν μεταφορᾶς) as those that utilize movement to create actuality (ἡ δ᾽ ἐνέργεια κίνησις). 166 Even inanimate objects, like rocks and the sea, are made “alive” through the movements Homer ascribes to them, which, Aristotle observes, function to create vivid representations of both objective and subjective realities. 167 His central example is that of a stone rolling down a plain: “for as the stone is to Sisyphus, so is the shameless one to the one who is shamelessly treated.” The rolling motion of a stone represents the mental state of someone acting shamelessly, and that stone rolling over whatever lies in its path communicates how being treated shamelessly “feels” (i.e. pushed down like Sisyphus). Aristotle uses the movement of an external object to convey the subjective experiences of agent and patient simultaneously. Seeking to illustrate a similar point in his De oratore, Cicero quotes Pacuvius, who, also looking to Homer, crafts metaphors that are created through movement. 168 …inhorrescit mare, tenebrae conduplicantur, noctisque et nimbum occaecat nigror, flamma inter nubis coruscat, caelum tonitru contremit, grando mixta imbri largifluo subita praecipitans cadit, undique omnes venti erumpunt, saevi exsistunt turbines, fervit aestu pelagus… “…a shivering takes the sea Darkness is doubled, and the murk of night And stormclouds blinds the sight, flame ‘mid the clouds Quivers, the heavens shudder with thunderclaps, 165 Tusc.4.31; See De orat. 1.25.113. 166 Rhet.1412a, 3-4. 167 Freese 1926. 168 De orat. 3.157; See Rackham 1942: 122nb): “the metaphors here are in the verbs.” 47 A sudden hail with bounteous rain commingled Falls headlong, all the winds from every quarter Burst forth, and savage whirlwinds rise; the sea Surges and boils…” 169 Inhorresco denotes bristling and trembling and is thus similar in meaning to the Greek term φρίκη. As Douglas Cairns observes, φρίκη not only denotes the physical symptoms of shivering, shuddering, and horripilation (goosebumps), it also connotes an emotion that “is particularly associated with automatic responses to sudden visual or auditory stimuli.” 170 Inhorresco is similarly characterized by Seneca (Ep.57.4: inhorrescet ad subita) and is associated with fear by Horace (Od. 1.23), who refers to a deer trembling (pavidam) with fear (metu), which is caused by the woods shivering (inhorruit) with sounds that cause the heart and knees to tremble (et corde et genibus tremit). According to Cicero, terror was used to refer to autonomic responses, like changes in complexion related to blood-flow and the trembling of the body, timor involved the approach of frightful things, and pavor, which literally means “a trembling” refers to the “movement” of mens or sapiens away from its place in the chest, which is suggested by Cicero to refer to the escape of breath from the body. 171 Pavidam is thus a mind-body analogy, as is inhorruit. Internal and external shivering mirror one another, providing evidence for an ineffaceable feedback loop between brain, body, and world that demonstrates the body as central to meaning-making, both in terms of intero- and exteroception. That is to say, internal mental “movement” (pavidam) mirrors external physical movement (inhorrescit), becoming a constitutive part of it, which is 169 Translation by Rackham 1942. 170 For interest in the embodied and emotive qualities of φρίκη see Cairns 2017: “Phrikē… is an involuntary bodily movement, one that is part of human beings’ pre-human inheritance…As a symptom of emotion, and especially of fear-like emotions, it is a member of a set of related symptoms that are also recognized in our own folk models (“I shudder to think,” “it gives me the shivers,” “he was in a cold sweat,” “she’s got cold feet,” “it was a chilling/hair-raising experience”), and confirmed by empirical investigation.” 171 Tusc. 4.19 citing Ennius. 48 understood in terms of autonomic processes (inhorrescit) that manifest in the visible body (tremit). The correspondence between inner and outer worlds that Horace’s use of inhorrescit facilitates is seemingly present in the Pacuvian passage as well. The episode is identified by Cicero (Div.1.24) as pertaining to a storm that destroyed much of the Greek fleet after the sack of Troy (Od. 1.326-7, 3.130-85), 172 the embodied experience of which is arguably externalized into the environment. 173 That is to say, the sea is embodied in order to externalize the autonomic response (i.e. trembling and horripilation) of the sailors to the sudden storm, which is amplified by coruscat and contremit, both of which are verbs that carry a sense of “shaking” or “trembling.” Together with trembling, winds break out (erumpunt) and the sea boils with heat (fervit aestu pelagus). These verbs (erumpunt and fervit) contribute further to the externalized representation of embodied experience, as they play into a ubiquitous cognitive metaphor that construes intense emotion as hot liquid in a container from which it is prone to burst (read: become externalized through expression). 174 This metaphor is derived from the embodied experience of passionate emotions, like the skin becoming flushed, and breath, tears, and sounds seeming to “burst” from the body. This element of embodiment, which “bursting forth” and “boiling” connect to, tacitly associates an intense emotion (perhaps something along the lines of indignation) with the trembling and bristling characteristic of an automatic response to frightening stimuli. One can thus imagine that the sailors’ embodied, emotional experience is externalized into the environment by Pacuvius with verbs that form a coherent representation that would otherwise require a forensic representation like non modo se animo commoveri sed etiam corpore ipso 172 See Mankin 2011: 244. 173 See Cic. Fin.5.31: quin etiam “ferae,” inquit Pacuvius, 'qui/bus abest ad prae/cavendum inte/llegendi astu/tia', iniecto terrore mortis “horrescunt.” (“Even ‘wild creatures,’ says Pacuvius, 'Lacking discourse of reason to look before,' when seized with fear of death, ‘bristle with horror.’”) 174 For this metaphor in Roman thought see Riggsby 2016: 114. For general discussion see Gibbs 2017: 118; Sanford and Emmott 2012: 60; Kövecses 2002; Lakoff 1987. 49 perhorrescere. 175 In either case, the body provides evidence for the veracity of an emotional experience, whether directly or through schematic representation. Later, bodily schematization was addressed by the younger Seneca, who explains the entanglement of mind and body in value assessments, 176 noting that the movement of the body can be seen to betray mental states and activities, giving numerous examples to do with ways of walking. 177 He suggests, for example, that those whose minds are enfeebled tend to drag their limbs (like their speech) when they walk (non vides, si animus elanguit, trahi membra et pigre moveri pedes?). In a later letter he explains further that mind-body analogies pertaining to health and strength scaffold value assessments: quomodo ad nos prima boni honestique notitia pervenerit… Nobis videtur observatio collegisse et rerum saepe factarum inter se conlatio, per analogian nostri intellectum et honestum et bonum iudicant… Quae sit haec analogia, dicam. Noveramus corporis sanitatem; ex hac cogitavimus esse aliquam et animi. Noveramus vires corporis; ex his collegimus esse et animi robur. (Ep.120.4-5) [You ask] how we first acquire knowledge of that which is good and that which is honourable… We believe that it is inference due to observation, a comparison of events that have occurred frequently. Our school of philosophy holds that the honourable and the good have been comprehended by analogy (analogia) …Now what this “analogy” is, I shall explain. We understood what bodily health was, and on this basis deduced the existence of a certain mental health also. We knew, too, bodily strength, and on this basis inferred the existence of mental sturdiness. 178 Just as the body can be strong and healthy, so can, thanks to analogia, the mind. We see this, for example, in Seneca’s 94 th Epistle (30), wherein he says that some intellects, which can be strong (vis), are upright and mobile while others are slow and lounge about (alium esse ingenii mobilis et erecti, alium tardi et hebetis). 175 Quint. IO.11.1.44 quoting Cicero Div. in Caec. 13.41 per Butler 1953. 176 Ep.113.4-5: “Whenever you have that which is manifold in one whole, it falls into the category of a single nature, and is therefore single. My soul is a living thing, and so am I; but we are not two separate persons – because the soul is part of myself” (trans. Gummere 1925). 177 Ep.114.3. 178 Translation adapted from Gummere 1925. 50 The connection between body and mind – between physical action and the assessment of mental activity -- can be further illustrated with a very simple example from the elder Seneca: dextra simul ac mens elanguit (“his hand and his mind went lax at the same time”). 179 A centurion failed to kill Mithridates, which is not viewed positively. This is expressed by the synchronicity of bodily movement and mental activity mandated by the singular verb (and emphasized by simul ac). The negative valence of the statement is produced by movement – elanguit (“went lax”) is the metaphor -- which corresponds to Seneca’s observation regarding analogies of health and strength providing a basis for abstract appraisal-based metaphors. The significance of mind-body analogies like this is discussed by the younger Seneca, who also cautions that such analogies have the power to establish and give an organized existence to virtue that shares a common boundary with vice (sunt enim, ut scis, virtutibus vitia confinia). 180 For example, rashness can look like bravery (imitatur temeritas fortitudinem), and bravery is construed of in terms of bodily “strength.” If “strength” is misapplied to indiscretion, then the rhetoric of heroism fails, and because the rhetoric of heroism constitutes character, community, and culture, 181 this has grave implications for the Roman moral constitution. The misapplication of movement to abstract mental states and qualities perverts a system of embodied dispositions and tendencies that organize the ways in which individuals perceive and react to their social world. 182 Seneca is thus concerned with such rhetoric because the body, by transcending its usual motive functions to become an expression of abstract knowledge, fosters intersubjectivity and calls into existence a collective moral-identity that arises spontaneously, intuitively, and even unconsciously. 179 Cont.7.1.15.9. 180 Ep. 120.8. 181 White 1985 in Sloane 2001: 616. 182 See especially Bourdieu 1984; Lizardo 2004; 2012. 51 MOTUS ANIMI Mind-body analogies, like those of Homer, Pacuvius, and Horace, together with Aristotle and Cicero’s explanation of them as motive and therefore emotive, as well as Cicero and Seneca’s observation of their evaluative weight, alert us to a pervasive linguistic practice in the ancient world. This practice, namely of connecting bodily movement to mental states that can then be externalized and evaluated, was largely encapsulated by a Latin term for emotion: motus animi. We are introduced to the term by Cicero, who seems to have believed the mind and body of each person to be in constant motion (et corpore et animo moveri semper). 183 He uses the term motus animi to refer to various mental states or qualities that drive action, 184 such as grief, anger, desire, pleasure, annoyance, fear, hatred, love, envy, concern, hope, aversion, joy, compassion, and revenge. 185 As stated above, he also says that the transfer of bodily movement to the mind by analogy was a method used by Roman authors to express and encourage the appraisal of mental activity. For example, not only does quickness (celeritas) both refer to the agility of the body and function to praise one’s mental activity, the opposite holds true as well. Tarditas, a noun meaning “slowness” or “sluggishness” is synonymous with stupidity (admirabor eorum tarditatem qui animantem inmortalem et eundum beatum rotundum esse velint quod ea forma neget ullam esse pulchriorem Plato). 186 In Latin literature, the link between movement of the feet and various mental qualities can be traced at least as far back as Terence, who correlates their activities, if he does not 183 De fin.5.56. Piso is speaking but the proposition is not disputed by Cicero, whose Africanus intimates something similar: sic fragile corpus animus sempiternus movet (Rep.6.26.15). The supposition is that an eternally moving spirit makes impermanent bodies constantly move. While embedded in complex philosophical dialogues, it is ultimately a simple stand-alone premise: while alive we breathe, our heart beats, we move our bodies in various ways, etc. 184 Part. 33.112-113. 185 Part.19.67; De orat. 3.9.11; De orat.2.44.185. For full list of emotions referenced by Cicero see Rosenwein 2006: 40. 186 Cic.N.D.1.24: (“I am amazed at the stupidity of those who think an immortal and blessed being is spherical in shape because Plato denied any other figure is not as beautiful”). 52 equate them (postquam surrexi neque pes neque mens sati' suom officium facit). 187 But it was the younger Seneca, as already mentioned above, who laid out the most detailed account of the relationship between pedal movement and the mind (Ep.114.3): Non vides, si animus elanguit, trahi membra et pigre moveri pedes? Si ille effeminatus est, in ipso incessu adparere mollitiam? Si ille acer est et ferox, concitari gradum? Si furit aut, quod furori simile est, irascitur, turbatum esse corporis motum nec ire, sed ferri? Do you not see that if a man’s soul has become sluggish, his limbs drag and his feet move indolently? If it is womanish, that one can detect the effeminacy by his very gait? That a keen and confident soul quickens the step? That madness is in the soul, or anger (which resembles madness), hastens our bodily movements from walking to rushing. The topic under discussion is speech and writing style, which the “foot” plays with, but, in any case, it was the semantic body that was able to express the abstract mind and Roman value assessments related to it by granting mobility to the mind via bodily analogy. States and qualities of mind could be expressed and evaluated through other types of bodily experience as well. Recalling the above discussion of Pacuvius and Horace in respect to inhorresco facilitating emotional resonance through externalization, consider Seneca’s Hercules Oetaeus 706-712: Vagus per artus errat excussos tremor, erectus horret crinis, impulsis adhuc stat terror animis et cor attonitum salit pavidumque trepidis palpitat uenis iecur. ut fractus austro pontus etiamnum tumet, quamvis quiescat languidis ventis dies, ita mens adhuc vexatur excusso metu. Wandering tremors roam through my shaking limbs 187 Eunuchus 729. Terence seems to have perhaps used the work of others as his own, so it is tempting to allow a self-deprecating reading of pes, employing the figurative sense Horace, Ovid, and Cicero do in reference to meter and, by extension, one’s abilities, though I am not prepared to argue this point. Nevertheless, given that Achilles’s most famous epithet already reflected a link between acumen and pedal speed, even if Terrence is taken merely to refer to physical and mental activity as distinct but related, one can easily enough spot the reasoning behind the metaphor, and the relationship between body, mind and speech that it ultimately fostered. 53 Erect hairs bristle; as yet with minds having been struck terror stands and a stunned heart leaps and the panic-struck liver throbs with bubbling veins as even now the broken sea swells with the south wind however much the sky is quiet with languid winds so even now my mind is troubled with fear shaken off. Deïanira, prodded to detail (refer) her innermost mental experience (quodcumque tegis), describes fear in terms of horripilation (horret) shaking (excussos; tremor) and being struck (impulsis). There is reference to pounding (palpitat) and thunder (attonitus), breaking waves (fractus pontus) and bubbling (trepidis) inside the body. As the simple chart displayed in Fig.3 shows, the conceptual and linguistic overlap between the Pacuvian and Senecan representation is significant. The roiling sea is a fully internalized element of objective reality used to demonstrate subjective mental experience by means of common bodily experiences. How that experience is assessed is unknowable in Pacuvius, but in Seneca it is clear. Wandering (vagus; errat) opens and characterizes the episode. As William Short has demonstrated, “wandering” metaphorically represents mistakenness in Latin: errare and its derivatives were Latin speakers’ normal way of expressing involuntary “wrongs,” including mental uncertainty, intellectual misapprehensions, moral faults, Pacuvius Seneca inhorrescit horret coruscate excussos tonitru attonitum contremit tremor + palpitat erumpunt impulsis + fractus fervit trepidis pelagus pontus Fig.3 54 deception, and even fear or madness. 188 I discuss this in an earlier work (2016) in reference to Tacitus’s depiction of Nero, who marauds through the streets of Rome at a time when the senate was debating revoking the freedom of freedmen who threatened violence against their patrons: 189 Q. Volusio P. Scipione consulibus otium foris, foeda domi lascivia, qua Nero itinera urbis et lupanaria et deverticula veste servili in dissimulationem sui compositus pererrabat, comitantibus qui raperent venditioni exposita et obviis vulnera inferrent, adversus ignaros adeo ut ipse quoque exciperet ictus et ore praeferret. Deinde ubi Caesarem esse qui grassaretur pernotuit augebanturque iniuriae adversus viros feminasque insignis, et quidam permissa semel licentia sub nomine Neronis inulti propriis cum globis eadem exercebant, in modum captivitatis nox agebatur; Iuliusque Montanus senatorii ordinis, sed qui nondum honorem capessisset, congressus forte per tenebras cum principe, quia vi attemptantem acriter reppulerat, deinde adgnitum oraverat, quasi exprobrasset, mori adactus est. (Tac. Ann. 13.25) At the time of the consulate of Quintus Volusius and Publius Scipio there was peace abroad and scandalous excess at home, where Nero dissembled his identity under the guise of a slave and wandered the streets, brothels, and taverns of the city with companions who would snatch things set out for sale and cause injury to those who got in their way. The victims were so unknowing as to who it was that they faced that Nero himself received obvious injury to his face. Then, when it became known that it was the Caesar who was on the prowl, the outrages against affluent men and women increased, and some people, once such behavior was permitted and uncurbed, carried out the same things with their own cliques with impunity under the name of Nero, and the night was spent as if one were held in captivity. Julius Montanus, a member of the senatorial order who had not yet taken office was forced to commit suicide when he by chance met with the princeps in the shadows and, having fiercely repelled the attack before recognizing Nero, begged pardon, which was taken as a reproach. In a scene designed to assimilate Nero to his great-great grandfather, Mark Antony, 190 Tacitus uses bodily experience to bring readers into contact with the wayward emperor’s wandering through the streets of Rome. At Annales 3.55, Tacitus points out that under the principate the moral behavior of the upper classes followed the example of the princeps, such as is seen here. Thus, while wandering the streets to investigate the seamier side of Rome was 188 Short 2013a. 189 Much of what follows has been excerpted from Devereaux 2016. 190 See Woodman 2012. 55 an indulgence that many young aristocratic males had partaken in since the late Republic, 191 Nero doing so suggests that his violent behavior causally relates to the decline of society. 192 Tacitus comments on as much with et quidam permissa semel licentia sub nomine Neronis inulti propriis cum globis eadem exercebant, which is particularly pointed because of the grammatical juxtaposition of inulti (meaning unpunished and also insatiable). As the grammatical subject, its position causes the reader a moment of uncertainty – seeming at first to modify Neronis and work semantically with exercebant, which carries with it connotations of military maneuvers typically conducted under some sort of accountable dux. As an unaccountable leader marching on his own city, Nero’s ingenium “misses the mark,” which is something that Tacitus brings to the fore with the first verb of the passage: pererrabat. The “coded subtext” 193 of the description of the events that follow is indicated by this word, and hence, Nero’s prowling stands for his error-making nature, and an embodied understanding of the metaphors’ full meaning guides how the reader “feels” about Nero. That is to say, via the culturally imbedded conceptual metaphor of mistaking is wandering the opening verb connects to a complex of emotions and judgments associated with the metaphor’s schema, and so it is pererrabat’s metaphorical quality – its symbolic connection – that gives full meaning to the passage. Had Tacitus wished to emphasize the intentionality of the marauding, which would seem more coherent with the events described, vagari would have been a more natural and precise word choice, but in choosing pererrare, which refers to the carrying out of involuntary action, something that is incongruent with the circumstances described, he instead leads the reader to consider its metaphorical sense and understand that Nero was acting as a result of an inherently corrupt ingenium. 194 191 Alston 1998: 106. 192 Griffin 2009: 173. 193 I take this term from Woodman 2012: 330. 194 See Devereaux 2016: 257-8. 56 The ingenium of Seneca’s Deïanira is similarly explored, although the wandering that characterizes her episode is of a different experiential and embodied sort. It is focused on autonomic responses, which are constitutive of mental experience. A fearful mental state manifests itself by “wandering” through her body, trembling as though waves were breaking beneath the skin. Even after the autonomic experience of fear has been “shaken off” (excusso metu), the roiling sea remains as an external reference to internal experience. The turbulence of the sea is internalized by the body and used to express a mind-body state, in this case, judged by the speaker herself as erring in nature, who then externalizes the emotion back into the environment. The further significance of this will be returned to below in a discussion of Seneca’s principia proludentia adfectibus. For now, what is important to hold in mind is that motus animi and judgments pertaining to them were expressed by Roman authors through embodied schemas that depend on bodily experience as well as the internalization of objective, external structures. The sea, as a most basic example, is one such “structure” because it has various objective components necessary to and dependent upon the dynamic expression of the whole (flatness, bristling waves, etc.), and those components can be articulated in various self-reflexive configurations and recursive contexts made possible by the semantic body, which enables internal and external realities to mutually constitute one another. 195 MOTUS ANIMORUM AND PRINCIPIA PROLUDENTIA ADFECTIBUS Due to their self-reflexive nature, motus animi are often expressed in relation to literary or historical characters, but the concern for ancient authors was, much as it was for orators, arousing fellow feeling among the members of their audience. Intersubjective potential in this regard was acknowledged by ancient authors, who refer to the opportunity for a multitude of 195 The savvy reader will anticipate enactivism. My adaptation of enactivism to a literary context can be found in 3f. 57 people to be “of one mind” (plurium corporum unus animus) 196 and “move together” (motus animorum). It is of some interest that Cicero, who seems to use the plural of motus to form the phrase motus animorum throughout his treatises on rhetoric, 197 makes use of motus in the singular in a private letter wherein he tells of his successful pleading of a case. 198 In his rhetorical treatises, motus animorum represent universal phenomena (omnes animorum motus, quos hominum generi rerum natura tribuit) that are known through personal experience (penitus pernoscendi). 199 With characteristic humility, in his private letter he says that his words were “so great” they inspired consensus in his favour, which is described as a great movement of minds having been made (magnus animorum motus est factus). 200 From the perspective of the orator facing a number of individuals, the movements and minds are many, but when looking to a decision, which requires movement in common, the movement is singular and distributed across a plurality of minds. 201 Quintilian, who speaks of rhetorical figures or schemas as changes in expression analogous to the different positions our bodies assume when we sit down, lie down, or look back (IO, 9.1.11), says such schemas are the surest way to arouse fellow feeling (ad motum animorum). Quintilian is referring to forms of rhetoric like interpretatio (synonymy): the repetition of a single idea in synonymous words; denominatio (metonymy): substitution of the name of a related thing for the thing itself; intellectio (synecdoche): the substitution of a part for the whole, or the whole for a part, of a thing; translatio (metaphor): the application of a word in a transferred sense from one thing to another that is in some way similar or analogous; 196 Quint. DM.16.6.22. 197 E.g. De Orat.1.17.5; 120.4-5; 2.324.3; 2.337.9; 3.222.4-5; 3.222.8; Part. 9.5; 32.13;79.4; 112.1-2; 112.3-4. Motum animorum appears at De orat.3.178, in which the listening pleasure (aurium voluptatem) and emotion (motum animorum) of the audience are of central concern. 198 Ad fam.9.8. 199 De orat.1.17. 200 Ad fam.9.8. 201 The movements of minds are described by Cicero through a mind-body analogy that enables minds (mentibus) to either stand up (excitandis) or sit down (sedandis). De orat 1.17. The analogy could be reversed and the mind represented by the physical body, as seen by the existence of pedarii, who voted with their feet rather than their tongues in the senate. See Adam 1833: 11 for Gell.3.18 and Cic. Ad Att.1.19, 20. 58 permutatio (allegory): denoting one thing literally, but meaning another. Allegory as a schema can include not only fictions as a whole, but also more isolated personified abstractions, like Homer’s shameless stone, as well as extended metaphor of all kinds together with their local effects. We will return to the notion of “local effects” in the closing discussion of constitutive rhetoric. For now, what is of note is that Quintilian explains the articulation of language that arouses fellow feeling (motus animorum) with a mind-body analogy that likens changes in presentation to changes in bodily position: altero, quo proprie schema dicitur, in sensu vel sermone aliqua a vulgari et simplici specie cum ratione mutatio, sicut nos sedemus, incumbimus, respicimus. 202 The intuition that varying the presentation of the same “body” produces collective movement is rooted in a belief in an orator’s ability to predict the emotions of his audience, a phenomenon playfully explained centuries before by Gorgias, who uses Helen’s physical beauty to allegorize language’s ability to spontaneously create emotional and evaluative communities: ἑνὶ δὲ σώματι πολλὰ σώματα συνήγαγεν ἀνδρῶν ἐπὶ μεγάλοις μέγα φρονούντων (“with a single body she brought together many bodies of men thinking great thoughts on great things”). Like Greeks and Trojans to Helen, audiences coalesce around the feelings and evaluations prompted by language, which for Quintilian included mind-body analogies. The younger Seneca, who, like Cicero, remarked that it is the nature of the human mind to be in motion (natura enim humanus animus agilis est et pronus ad motus), 203 takes up Cicero’s observation that motus animorum are universal phenomena, but delves further by considering their origin in terms of involuntary bodily movement, generally conceived of as the result of being struck [ictus, pulsus]. 204 One will recall that Deïanira spoke of a plurality 202 IO, 9.1.11. 203 Tranq.2.11. 204 De ira 2.1.2; 2.3.2. 59 of minds being struck with fear (impulsis animis). 205 In his definition of such involuntary bodily movements, Seneca focuses on the autonomic nature of socially engendered displays of emotion, which he conceives of as originating with principia proludentia adfectibus (prompts to experience emotions), which cause us to smile when others smile, be saddened by a crowd of mourners, and to bubble-over with anger at the tribulations of others.” 206 He identifies the same proto-emotional phenomena being aroused by art and literature, finding their effect on viewers and readers necessary but not sufficient for motus animorum. 207 The significance of Seneca’s concept of principia proludentia adfectibus to our understanding of the semantic body might be best explained by looking to the deepest levels of the term’s meaning. Principium, meaning first share as well as origin, is used by Cicero to identify the beginning of a speech. 208 Varro used it to refer to the roots of words that belong together by virtue of a common origin, 209 just as men are to tribe 210 and incomplete acts are to completed ones. 211 Principia, as fundamental aspects of language, thus seem to have been conceived of by Varro as “origins” somehow related to community, movement, and time. If we break the word proludentia (lit. “pregames”) 212 down with these elements in mind, we note that they are plural, antecedent (pro-), incomplete actions (present participial form). In essence, then, principia proludentia adfectibus are an ongoing, unfinished “community” of movements that represent the origins of a flexible system of emotional expression that has the potential to spontaneously create variously defined groups of similarly feeling individuals. 213 205 The striking metaphor traces back at least as far as Herodotus. See Devereaux 2016 “Herodotus notably relies on an aggregate of embodied experience when he uses a striking metaphor to describe Cambyses’s realization that his brother’s death was unnecessary (3.64, ἔτυψε ἡ ἀληθείη Καμβύσεα).” 206 De ira 2.2. 207 De ira 2.2. 208 E.g. De orat.1.121.5; 2.315.5. 209 Ling. 6.37. 210 Ling. 8.4. 211 Ling. 9.99. 212 Upon entering “proludentia” into the TLL, you will be directed to “affectus.” TLL, vol. I, p. 1185, lin. 10. 213 I suggest this based in part on the apparent coherence of principia proludentia adfectibus with propatheiai, the sub-rational emotional movements that may occur equally with impressions about to be rejected or endorsed, and 60 It would thus seem that while Seneca might not have applauded the tendency of humans to give way to emotion, or their susceptibility to emotional contagion, or their propensity for inauthentic displays of feeling, 214 he was certainly aware of the mutual solicitation of position and disposition that embodied and embedded agents participate in without conscious awareness. This awareness on Seneca’s part encourages us to view principia proludentia adfectibus not only as “signals that something has the appearance of being good or bad,” 215 but also as socially distributed sets of bodily operations that work on their context to produce countless acts of practical correspondences. 216 They are the simulations that underpin social behavior. One might thus think of Seneca’s principia proludentia adfectibus as individually experienced, socially primed phenomena that make certain beliefs attractive to us, “moving” us in the direction of accepting certain propositions without taking us all the way to acceptance, which is described by Seneca as a voluntary process (accepit…voluntate … adprobauit…iudicio) proceeding from, and in many cases against, these autonomic phenomena. 217 I would suggest that the significance of the process beginning with autonomic movements of the body is found in the poetry discussed above. In Seneca’s tragedy, for example, Deïanira internalizes the sea into her body and uses it to express a mind-body state, in this case, judged by the speaker herself as erring in nature, who then externalizes her emotion back into the environment. Characters in Seneca’s prose similarly affect the environment with their evaluative externalizations, as we see with Augustus in De ira 3.40, wherein the Caesar, disgusted by Pollio’s man-eating eels (which were presumably on the are thus experienced by the wise and unwise alike. See Graver 2002 and Sihvola and Engberg-Pedersen 1998 for attribution of the concept to either Posidonius or Zeno and Chrysippus before him. 214 Ep.99.21.3: Genuine emotion (veri adfectus) persists after the removal of social prompts (lugentium scaena). 215 Rosenwein 2006: 39 provides this as the Stoic definition, but acknowledges it is wrong to assume a unanimous Stoic position on the emotions 2006: 38. 216 See Lizardo 2004: 392. 217 De ira 2.3.5. See Rosenwein 2006: 37-9. See also Kaster 2001; 2005. I here refer to Seneca’s discussion regarding social contexts and acknowledge that these automatic phenomena are not limited to social situations. 61 menu that evening), externalizes his satiety (read: disgust) by filling in the fishpond (iussit complerique piscina). Moral judgment is externalized into the objective environment. As Seneca observed, principia proludentia adfectibus are often social in nature. Disgust, “the body and soul” emotion, 218 when assented to by Augustus, resulted in a permanent change to a shared physical environment. Fear, which was not assented to by Deïanira, was returned to the environment in a natural and thus inevitably recurring state. Horace’s terrified doe, presumably not in need of interrogating her instincts, quakes in unison with the forest surrounding her, becoming a constitutive part of the environment to which she is reacting. All three of these relationships to environmental contexts originate in processes that are intersubjective in origin and consequence. Of interest is that social emotions, which are cultural constructs that require a social context within which to occur, like moral disgust, 219 result in manmade changes to the environment, while socialized emotions, which can occur in response to both social and non-social stimuli, like Deïanira and the doe’s fear, have socially circumscribed displays and portrayals 220 that result in reanimations of the natural world. In either case, we can see that the literary environment, as it relates to the evaluative content of Latin literature, is influenced by principia proludentia adfectibus, inviting us as readers to self-reflexively maintain the structure of a certain emotional regime. It’s a worthwhile point to reflect upon, as it is thanks to motus animorum that emotional regimes are able to persist. 218 See Rozin, Haidt, and McCauley 1999. 219 For interest see Haidt’s social intuitionist model of moral judgment 2001. Haidt’s model is a social model in that it deemphasizes the private reasoning done by individuals and emphasizes instead the importance of social and cultural influences. 220 Emotional socialization, through which one learns the norms, values, behavior, and emotional displays appropriate to one’s social position, begins in infancy. For overview see Eisenberg et al. 1998. On children’s literature and emotional socialization see Frevert et al. 2014; on fear see esp. pp.173-190. 62 MEMORY PADS AND EMOTIONAL REGIMES According to William Reddy, an emotional regime is a “set of normative emotions and the official rituals, practices, and emotives that express and inculcate them; a necessary underpinning of any stable political regime.” 221 The bodily operations of principia proludentia adfectibus and the practical correspondences they solicit through language can be better understood as operating within an emotional regime when considered together with Seneca’s thoughts about the body, knowledge, emotion and “goods.” Consistent with his identification of autonomic movements induced by social stimuli as “origins” that are necessary to but not sufficient for motus animorum, Seneca notes that every emotion at the start is weak, gaining strength by progress. He also says that all emotions flow from a natural source 222 which is according to nature and is given to us as a gift immediately at our birth. 223 This gift is consciousness of our physical constitution and knowledge (scientia) of how to use our bodies, 224 and so living and learning begin at the same time. 225 Taken together, these statements seem to presage Piaget’s notion of the body, as Pierre Bourdieu put it, as “a memory pad for the most sacred values.” 226 Moreover, in somewhat of a prefiguration of modern studies on emotion and reason (beginning with Damasio’s Descartes’ Error), Seneca also identifies emotions as being bodily things which, being natural, are “goods of the body” and thus “goods of the soul” 227 which more or less arise inevitably. 228 He even draws directly on mind-body analogies to detail his knowledge of emotions and their influence on reasoning -- fear holds us back (timor retinet), boldness drives us forward (audacia inpellit), and joy raises our spirits (gaudium extollit). 229 Evidence for the corporeality of emotion is in the very 221 Reddy 2001: 129. 222 Ep. 116.3. 223 Ep. 124.7. 224 Ep. 121.6-10. 225 Ep. 121.24. 226 Bourdieu 1990: 68; See Lizardo 2004: 388. 227 Ep. 106.5. 228 Ep. 116.3. 229 Ep. 106.9. 63 language that Seneca uses to describe it, which is based on bodily movement and environmental orientation, again demonstrating the ineffaceable feedback loop that exists between mind, body and world. Suggestion of the influence such process-loops could have on identity, ethics, and knowledge litter the canon. Take as an example the way female bodily movements are given meaning. Recall Daphne transforming into a tree at Met.1.549-50: in ramos bracchia crescunt, pes modo tam velox pigris radicibus haeret (“her arms grew up into branches, and her active feet as clinging roots were fastened to the ground”). 230 Now consider with this the effect of Daphne’s bodily experience on a later representation of emotion in Ovid’s text, when the anguished love of Echo for Narcissus (Met.3.393) similarly adheres and grows upwards (haeret amor crescitque). The desire to escape expressed by Daphne -- encapsulated by her bodily movement -- in turn affects the conceptualization of Echo’s longing for Narcissus, which in turn affects a reconceptualization of Daphne’s experience by aversion being conflated with desire through a self-reflexive network of reciprocal sympathies that illustrates the importance of bodily movement to the interpretation of the text as a conduit of cultural norms and values. From this vantage point we can even posit that Daphne and Echo combine to metamorphose Sappho, who also conceived of her love object “loving against her will” (φιλήϲει κωὐκ ἐθέλοιϲα). 231 Sappho 1 has long been regarded as a poetic fiction which serves to “mythologize a genuine emotion,” 232 the effects of which are seemingly evident in Ovid, as well as Livy, who concretizes the Ovidian schema in Romulus’s advice to the Sabine women (AUC 1.9.15-16): 230 See Chapter One. 231 1.24 232 See Stanley 1976: 305. 64 mollirent modo iras et, quibus fors corpora dedisset, darent animos. saepe ex iniuria postmodum gratiam ortam, eoque melioribus usuras viris, quod adnisurus pro se quisque sit ut, cum suam vicem functus officio sit, parentium etiam patriaeque expleat desiderium. accedebant blanditiae virorum factum purgantium cupiditate atque amore, quae maxime ad muliebre ingenium efficaces preces sunt. He begged them to lay aside their feelings of resentment and give their affections to those whom fortune had made masters of their persons. An injury had often led to reconciliation and love; they would find their husbands all the more affectionate because each would do his utmost, so far as in him lay to make up for the loss of parents and country. These arguments were reinforced by the endearments of their husbands who excused their conduct by pleading the irresistible force of their passion —a plea effective beyond all others in appealing to a woman's nature. Note that the persuasion of the Sabine minds is described with physically engaging language that denotes movement toward, 233 pressing physically against, 234 and filling up, 235 formulating a plea for consummation that essentially manifests the act in the text itself. As we will see in the next section as well as the next chapter, Livy scaffolds content with bodily experience with some regularity. What I want to draw attention to here is simply the role that bodily mimesis plays in persuasion and the schematic organization of the Sabine passage, which is aesthetically playful. As just noted, a number of passages that evince a similar scaffolding method will be introduced throughout the remainder of this thesis. For now, I want to return to Seneca’s 114 th epistle, commonly entitled “On Style as a Mirror of Character,” which offers a quintessential example of how Romans conceived of the body as a “memory pad” for their values. In his letter, Seneca outlines his conceptualization of situated cognition, enmeshing 233 The prefix ad- carries this meaning together with accedebant. 234 The original physical sense of adnitor is identified by de Vaan as to “lean on” or to “exert pressure.” Lewis and Short identify the primary sense as “to press upon or against.” 235 Explere means “to fill up” as well as “to satisfy completely.” 65 ingenium with animus. 236 Words come from this hexis, 237 which is situated within a contemporary value system (sic genus dicendi aliquando imitatur publicos mores) that can be understood in terms of bodily action (quemadmodum autem uniuscuiusque actio dicenti similis est). 238 He illustrates this premise by mapping bodily action onto both mental activity and linguistic style, 239 ascribing a variety of bodily experiences to language: involutam et errantem, 240 virulem et fortem…percutiat, 241 incitata, 242 tenera et fluxa. 243 It is in language that we most clearly see that body (lingua), mind (mens), and conscious awareness (animus) are manifold: Quomodo in vino non ante lingua titubat quam mens cessit oneri et inclinata vel prodita est, ita ista orationis quid aliud quam ebrietas nulli molesta est, nisi animus labat? (Ep.114.22) As in the case of drink, the tongue does not trip until the mind is overcome beneath its load and gives way or betrays itself; so that intoxication of style – for what else than this can I call it – never gives trouble to anyone unless conscious awareness begins to slip away. I translate animus as “conscious awareness” because Seneca identifies it as that from which perception and expression originate (ab illo sensus, ab illo verba exeunt, ab illo nobis est habitus, vultus, incessus). 244 Moreover, the first domain of animus is sensus, a prioritization that echoes Ep.9.22: Non quid dicat, sed quid sentiat, refert, 245 and Ep.13.6: non quid audias sed quid sentias cogites... 246 Courage rises or falls in correspondence to one’s 236 Ep.114.3: non potest alius esse ingenio alius animo color (“one’s character cannot be of one sort and one’s soul of another”). 237 Ep.114.11: …ostendit animos quoque a quibus verba exeunt procidisse (…it shows that the mind from which the words pour forth has fallen down). 238 Ep.114.2. “so the people’s style of speaking often reproduces the general character of the time”; “just as each individual man’s actions seem to speak.” 239 Ep.114.3. 240 Ep.114.4. 241 Ep.114.15. 242 Ep.114.20. 243 Ep.114.20. 244 Ep. 114.22: “from the soul issue our thoughts, our words, dispositions, expressions, and our very gait.” 245 “It matters not what one says, but what one perceives.” 246 “Consider not what you hear but what you yourself perceive…” 66 perception of reality, 247 and it is the conscious awareness responsible for that perception’s accuracy that is evaluated with terms that map onto the body intertwined with it: sano, valente, robusta, fortis, virilis, procubuit. 248 Quicquid in uno multiplex est, sub unam naturam cadit; itaque unum est. Et animus meus animal est et ego animal sum, duo tamen non sumus. (Ep.113.4-5). But whenever you have that which is manifold in one whole, it falls into the category of a single nature, and is therefore single. My consciousness is a living thing, and so am I; but we are not two separate entities. One can’t really talk of animus without speaking also of the body, as the terms motus animi and principia proludentibus adfectibus suggest. Forerunners to the Piagetian-Bourdieusian conceptualization of the “living memory pad,” these Roman understandings of emotion were adaptive elements of situated cognition, the link of which to linguistic expression was also apparently recognized by Seneca, who notes that language (oratio) has no fixed laws (certam regulam non habet) and adapts to context (consuetudo illam civitatis, quae numquam in eodem diu stetit, versat). 249 Thus, despite Seneca’s prioritization of mental over physical realities, 250 he had a decidedly non-dualistic understanding of the language of mental and social life, seeming to grasp the significance of the body’s ability to “remember” and express common values. ENARGEIA? With the body’s ability to remember in mind, I want to return to Livy, this time to his description of Hannibal crossing the Alps. Due to the similarity between their accounts, it seems that Polybius and Livy used the same source to render their telling, but there are 247 See Short 2018. 248 Ep.114.22; It can also be roused from sleep (excitandus e somno) and pinched (vellicandus) (Ep.20.13). See also Ep.120. 249 Ep.114.13 (“it is changed by the usage of the people, never the same for any length of time”). 250 E.g. Ep.65.22; Ep.66.2-3. 67 differences, like Polybius stating that on the eleventh day the soldiers could see Italy from the top of the pass, starting on their descent after a dramatic speech by Hannibal, while Livy writes that they saw Italy and listened to the speech on the twelfth day, when they were already descending. 251 Perhaps Livy did not look at Polybius in addition to a common source, or perhaps he did and simply made changes to suit his narrative. 252 In the demonstration that follows, which will examine the narratives in terms of bodily interaction with the environment, I will suggest that regardless of whether Livy had an eye on Polybius or a common source, he responds to a prompt for vividness that is found in Polybius. In Polybius (3.54), the speech of Hannibal to his troops is described as providing a clear view of Italy (ἡ τῆς Ἰταλίας ἐνάργεια), which Hannibal points out from the summit of the Alps. His men, at first feeling δύσθυμος, become somewhat εὐθαρσεῖς before their descent. Given how things go, one can’t help but retrospectively read εὐθαρσεῖς as “overly bold.” The slippery path “throws away” men (ἀπέβαλε), “toppling them over” (σφαλέν) and “carrying them off” (ἐφέρετο) the mountain pass, leaving them “destroyed” (τούς φθαρέντας). 253 The beginning of their descent is characterized by the adverb δυσχερής, meaning something like “in a way more difficult to manage.” The literal meaning of this adverb is tactile and denotes a difficulty in grasping with the hands. In this context, it is seemingly transferred to the feet, given that the poor traction afforded by the snowpack is at issue, however, with χείρ at the root of the term, its haptic quality remains salient. I draw attention to this because Livy focuses his narrative, long recognized as rhetorical embellishment, 254 around the haptic notion of difficulty in a rather striking way: 251 Polybius 3.53-54; Livy 21.35 252 Miller 1975 assumes that Livy consulted Polybius. Walbank 1956 says of Livy's account of Hannibal's crossing of the Alps (XXI, 31, I ff.), that “if one omits the passage 31, 9-12, and the first words of 32, 6, his version corresponds to that in Polybius, III, 49, 5-56, 4, sufficiently closely to suggest that both go back ultimately to the same source.” 253 Hist. 3.54.4-5. 254 See Walbank 1957. 68 …Hannibal (dixit)…moeniaque eos tum transcendere non Italiae modo sed etiam urbis Romanae…uno aut summum altero proelio arcem et caput Italiae in manu ac potestate habituros…omnis enim ferme via praeceps angusta lubrica erat, ut neque sustinere se ab lapsu possent nec qui paulum titubassent haerere adfixi vestigio suo, aliique super alios et iumenta in homines occiderent. ventum deinde ad multo angustiorem rupem atque ita rectis saxis ut aegre expeditus miles temptabundus manibusque retinens virgulta ac stirpes circa eminentes demittere sese posset. natura locus iam ante praeceps recenti lapsu terrae in pedum mille admodum altitudinem abruptus erat….ut vero tot hominum iumentorumque incessu dilapsa est, per nudam infra glaciem fluentemque tabem liquescentis nivis ingrediebantur. taetra ibi luctatio erat via lubrica non recipiente vestigium et in prono citius pedes fallente, ut seu manibus in adsurgendo seu genu se adiuvissent, ipsis adminiculis prolapsis iterum corruerent; nec stirpes circa radicesve, ad quas pede aut manu quisquam eniti posset, erant; ita in levi tantum glacie tabidaque nive volutabantur. (AUC 21.35-36) …Hannibal (said) … they were transcending not only the walls of Italy but also of the city of Rome…with one more battle they would have the ultimate stronghold and source of Italy’s power in their hand … for practically every road was steep, narrow, and treacherous, so that neither could they keep from slipping, nor could those who had been thrown a little off their balance retain their footing, but came down, one on top of the other, and the beasts on top of the men. They then came to a much narrower cliff, and with rocks so perpendicular that it was difficult for an unencumbered soldier to manage the descent, though he felt his way and clung with his hands to the bushes and roots that projected here and there. The place had been precipitous before, but a recent land slip had carried it away to the depth of a good thousand feet… Then came a terrible struggle on the slippery surface, for it afforded then no foothold while the downward slope made their feet more quickly slide from under them, so that whether they tried to pull themselves up with their hands or used their knees, these supports themselves would slip, and down they would come again. 255 The experience of Carthaginian soldiers is framed by a tactile metaphor used to sharpen the picture of Italy by undermining the hortatory speech of Hannibal through the use of an extended metaphor that runs parallel to the propositional content of the text. Having been assured that they will soon hold the head of Italy in their collective hand, Hannibal’s men find that they have difficulty holding on to much of anything. Their trek, animated with 255 Translation adapted from Foster 1929. 69 verbal elements like titubassent, occiderent, dilapsa est, and corruerent, is illustrated with terms like lubrica, lapsu, lapsu (again), lubrica (again), which connect descriptive phrases like aegre expeditus miles temptabundus manibusque retinens…and non recipiente to Hannibal’s unfulfilled promise (caput Italiae in manu ac potestate habituros). 256 Punctuating the failure of his words are fallente, meaning “mistakenly,” and prolapsis, meaning literally “by slipping forward,” and figuratively “by making a mistake” and “going to ruin.” The bodies of the soldiers throughout the passage function not only to depict events, but also to represent mental states and evaluative propositions. 257 Livy thus seems to have responded to Polybius (or their common source) by inserting a “true representation of Italy” that transmogrifies the bodily elements found in Polybius’s narrative to resonate with his own sociopolitical context. He was, after all, writing around the time of the fall of the republic and emergence of empire, when Rome was very much “up for grabs.” 258 This passage by Livy, which seems to respond to Polybius’s cue to craft energeia (which may have corresponded to a cue in a mutual source), might be thought of as an example of one of the ways in which literature provides le sens du jeu. Through vividness, which is deeply reliant on the experiences of the body, as well as wordplay, which is made possible by the semantic body, Livy is able to discuss past events relevant to his modern context in such a way that readers are able to grasp what is at stake and react in accordance with their habitus (read: emotional regime). Bodies and minds think together. This notion of enargeia as bodies and minds “thinking together” is admittedly novel, 259 though recent scholarship has tied enargeia more closely to the body, describing it as multimodal, that is, involving multiple sensory modalities in the creation of “vividness.” 260 256 This metaphor is not present in Polybius’s representation of Hannibal’s speech. 257 For more full discussion see Devereaux 2016. 258 This was already conceptually at play in Sallust’s Jugurtha, who refers to Rome as transferrable object: “urbem venalem” (Jug.35.10). 259 See Devereaux 2016. 260 See Webb 2009; Devereaux 2016; Grethlein and Huitink 2017. 70 It is with this recent vein of scholarship that my interpretation of enargeia as “bodily art,” wherein mind and body “think together,” coheres. 261 But, as the “?” in the title of this section suggests, I am not forwarding the argument that my interpretation entirely coheres with ancient estimations of the phenomenon described by this word. I do, however, suggest that we might want to revisit the question of enargeia through this lens of embodiment, given that motor-resonance theories would suggest that “vividness” in terms of visual perception is very much “vividness” in terms of the mnemonic body. CONSTITUTIVE RHETORIC Bodies and minds “thinking together” within the context of an emotional regime that is both produced by and productive of “movement” can be thought of as an element of constitutive rhetoric. Constitutive rhetoric refers to a theory of discourse that focuses on the capacity of language to create a collective identity for an audience, especially by means of condensation symbols, literature, and narratives. 262 We see the potential for the creation of a collective identity among readers in Livy’s response to the prompt to craft enargeia at a certain point of his narrative, namely when Hannibal is “seeing” Italy from its figurative walls (the Alps). Rome is structurally integrated into the passage as a slippery object hard to hold. The construal of the event in this way is historically situated by way of the semantic body, which is transhistorical. Livy’s rhetorical embellishment and objectification of Rome thus seem to respond to an invitation for clarity, which is developed by a bodily schema that scaffolds the narrative and accounts for the position of Livy’s audience as contingent and historically grounded viewers. The knowledge associated with bodily schemas adapts to the perspective of the viewer, with the body creating the potential for “vividness” in terms of “shared truth” 261 Phrasing comes from Hawhee 2004: 4-5 re. the simultaneous training of body and mind in Antidosis 181- 183. 262 Sloane 2001: 616. 71 by way of its abstraction. This, I would argue, is how we can think of constitutive rhetoric operating in ancient texts, insofar as it creates an image of an audience by generating the conditions needed to structure the identity of those to whom it is addressed. 263 Maurice Charland refers to this creation as “the rhetoric of socialization.” 264 I want to explain how ancient texts create “the rhetoric of socialization” by focusing on something simple: the negative connotation of downward movement that is found in many languages, including Latin. 265 In Latin, movement that is downward (frequently expressed by the prefix de-) has a negative force in many conceptualizations. 266 For example, demens is to be mentally unstable, 267 the harshest form of banishment is deportatio, 268 to lose one’s claim in court is to have one’s hand knocked down (depellere manum). 269 Curses are referred to as defixiones, a term derived from a verb meaning “to fasten down.” To be without hope is to be desperatio (which is, incidentally, how the Carthaginian soldiers are described by Livy -- desperatio in omnium voltu emineret). 270 At least partial explanation for this tendency is found in modern evidence for a link between affective judgments and physical metaphors. In Philosophy in the Flesh, Lakoff and Johnson contend that metaphor allows people to think abstractly because it links abstract concepts (e.g., affect) to concrete sensory experiences, so abstract thought is not simply aided by physical metaphors, it is actually based on them. 271 The negative evaluation denoted by downward movement can manifest in any number of 263 Jasinski 2001: 107 summarizing Charland 1987, who is concerned with the identity of the audience created as soon as that audience acknowledges being addressed. For illustration, Jasinski gives the example of a television commercial for toothpaste, which “manages not only to sell its product but also to energize certain identity possibilities as it positions its audience in the role of ‘consumers’.” I am of course referring to a moral address, so “acknowledgment” in this case is analogous to “assent” for the Stoics. 264 Charland 1987: 138. 265 cf. (e.g.) “downtrodden” (English); “niedergeschlagen” (German); “καταπιεσμένος” (modern Greek). 266 For broad discussion of the preposition de see Short 2013. 267 See (e.g.) Cic. De Div. 2: 124: a constantia atque a mente. 268 It was most severe because it included additional penalties, including loss of Roman citizenship and confinement to a definite place. See Berger 1953: 432. 269 A symbolic response to manus iniectio. See Berger 1953: 432. 270 AUC.21.35. The cohesion between the soldier’s mental experience and the physical experience described prompts a certain identification with the enemy. 271 Lakoff and Johnson 1999. 72 imaginative expressions (e.g. lapsu, prolapsis, corruerunt) as a consequence of the body being manifold with thought. A focus on downward movement helps to “sync up” readers in their sentiment regarding the passage, which is fundamentally concerned with the objective status of Rome at the time Livy was writing. One might therefore think of Livy’s passage as an inventional and grouping resource that functions to reveal a public’s values. 272 One might also say it represents a discursive technique that allows one to bring about or increase the adherence of minds to the theses that one proposes for their assent. 273 It can also be seen to explain the “local effects” of mind-body analogies and extended metaphors in terms of the rhetoric of socialization, which generates the conditions needed for collective identities to emerge. It does this by creating the possibility to coordinate what Bourdieu called “the most insignificant techniques of the body” across individuals, 274 or what Cicero and Quintilian referred to as the singular movement of multiple minds (motus animorum). If readers “move downward” together, their negative sentiment is in common and constitutive of an impromptu community. The next chapter will interrogate the mnemonic implications of such “movement.” In preparation for that discussion, let’s reiterate and situate what has been discussed so far. Mind-body analogies, which are a product of embodied cognition (whether conceived of with its modern definition or as the entanglement that characterized the concept in the classical period), were acknowledged by ancient authors to bear moral weight, solicit intersubjectivity, and instantiate spontaneous communities defined by “movement in common.” This helps distant readers to more critically examine the aesthetic play of ancient authors who posit and reify their subjects, whether figures like Daphne, Echo, and the Sabines, or circumstances like political instability. This reification process is made possible by the body which 272 See Palczewski 2015: 7. 273 See Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca 1969: 4; 83-5. 274 Bourdieu 1984: 466 as cited in Lizardo 2004: 392. 73 functions as a “living memory pad” operating within an emotional regime wherein mind and body think together to produce le sens du jeu, by way of which collective identities unconsciously arise. 74 Chapter Three The Historeme In this chapter I will introduce and redefine the concept of “the historeme.” This concept is helpful if not necessary to organizing our understanding of the mnemonic implications of neurophenomenological “movement,” which carries moral weight, solicits intersubjectivity, and instantiates spontaneous communities defined by “movement in common.” The historeme is presently defined as “the smallest minimal unit of historiographic fact that possesses a peculiar and eventful narrative force” which is “rooted in the real” by virtue of its phenomenological character. 275 Cognitive Metaphor Theory (CMT), which forwards that bodily knowledge structures abstract thought, will support the forging of a new definition in this chapter. The schematic organization of narrative I derive from CMT demonstrates that a fine-grained analysis of the phenomenological character of memorable literary episodes suggests their status is not merely anecdotal. A prelinguistic architecture which adapts well to various forms of expression by virtue of being grounded in the probabilities of effortlessly remembered and re-remembered bodily experience reveals how narrative engages with the “living memory pad” of the body to organize social knowledge, perpetuate emotional regimes, and provide le sens du jeu. The historeme was first defined by Joel Fineman as the smallest unit of historiographic fact that possesses a peculiar and eventful narrative force, causing it to exceed its literary status by virtue of its rootedness in “the real.” 276 “The real” is anecdotal: short, interesting, and unreliable in its detail. Fineman cites Thucydides’s phenomenological rendering of the aporetic plague as an example. Its phenomenological quality organizes knowledge around experiences familiar to living, experiencing, contingent and historically 275 Fineman 1989 56-61. 276 Ibid. 75 grounded viewers. 277 To put it simply, Fineman’s historeme is concerned not with the autopsy historians carry out, but with breathing life into the body of the past, reviving the experience of history. By reviving experience, Fineman argues, Thucydides renders the narrative forever open, creating a space that “lets history happen” as “an event within and yet without the framing context of historical successivity,” 278 meaning that the body imparts a universal quality to the historeme that is constitutive of -- yet entirely free from -- its literary context. One might thus say that the historeme exists when the body creates a point of emergence – situating the reader at the threshold of undecidability between objective and subjective experience. 279 According to Fineman, probability and plausibility are central to the accessibility of historical experience, which leads to the use of generic types and situations in the structuring of accessible narratives. In suggesting that the phenomenological character of historical narratives is what renders them accessible -- and therefore repeatable and memorable -- he invokes Hayden White’s metahistory, which refers to the creation of history through emphasis, arrangement, etc.... 280 White’s metahistory is the story that the way the story is told tells. Examples might include Livy’s use of the historical present to make events seem closer to the reader, Sallust’s and Tacitus’s use of compressed and unusual grammar to express the difficulty of circumstances, or Caesar’s use of illeism to justify his actions. A.J. Woodman later added that metahistory was enhanced by figures of speech (metaphors, allegories, etc.) that evoke intersecting narratives. Woodman gives an example of Tacitus invoking Vergil in a description of Morbodius, whom he describes as hiding in his wooded lair like a snake. 281 277 Fineman 1989: 53. Fineman references Jean Hyppolite’s Genesis and Structure of Hegel's "Phenomenology of Spirit,” in which the phenomenological genesis of a concept is the essence of consciousness that underpins the organization of self-expression. 278 Ibid. 279 See Agamben 2009. 280 White 1975. 281 Woodman 2009: 2. 76 The idea is that to remember Morbodius is to re-remember Vergil’s snake. Obviously, such intersections are not unique to the genre of historiography. 282 Woodman’s point is that readers interested in metahistory should be attentive to allusion as a discourse feature of historiographical prose. I would like to collapse Fineman, White, and Woodman’s definitions into a model of the historeme that goes beyond a focus on the phenomenological and intertextual content readily found on the surface of historiographical texts. I want to instead suggest a definition for the historeme based on the regular features of human cognition outlined in Chapter One, which are evinced by a prelinguistic architecture that grounds the narratives of various genres in bodily experience, as seen in Chapter Two. 283 To argue for this definition, I will first identify the prelinguistic historeme as embodied and intercorporeal. Section Two will consider historiographical narratives through the lens of embodied semantics to consider the potential for vivid description to function as an intercorporeal representation of emotional experience. Section Three considers the role of bodily analogies in organizing knowledge, while Section Four defines the ways in which the transhistorical body supports that process. Section Five considers the impact of emotional regimes on the structure and deployment of “type-scenes.” Section Six suggests that prelinguistic historemes, by virtue of the transhistorical body, are enthymematic, supplying information essential to social cohesion. The final section forwards a new definition for prelinguistic historemes and suggests a new term: enactive analogy. 282 For example, Propertius at 2.14.29 aligns Cynthia with Theognis’s (4.10.457-60) lover who “breaks her moorings and often finds another harbour at night” (ἀπορρήξασα δὲ δεσμά πολλάκις ἐκ νυκτῶν ἄλλον ἔχει λιμένα) with ad litora nauis. Anderson 1966 makes a connection between Theognis and Horace c.1.14, arguing that the oft identified ship of state is actually a woman. 283 Naturally, since prose evolved from poetry, we tend to find prelinguistic historemes in prose that are found in early and historically contingent poets. 77 REDEFINING THE HISTOREME (Part 1) As the author of On the Sublime observes (22.1): “there is an indefinite multiplicity of emotions (pathē) and no one can even say how many they are.” Citing this, Douglas Cairns characterizes the experiences we pick out and label as emotions or emotional episodes as “just the peaks and troughs in a continuous affective landscape, rendering the history of emotions a difficult thing to write.” 284 In response to this difficulty, this chapter seeks to offer a way to supply some detail to that landscape, such that there is slightly less “blank space” upon which to write such a history. That is to say, it seeks to identify the scaffolding upon which arguments about emotion as an historical object in Latin texts can be made. This scaffolding is what I will first identify as “prelinguistic historemes.” Embodied and intercorporeal, these diffuse, adaptable schemas represent neurophenomenological “facts” that are distinct from the anecdotes found on the surface of the text. A reason I will graft the prelinguistic features of texts onto Fineman’s notion of the historeme is because a defining feature of Fineman’s historeme is its probability and plausibility, and bodily experience is both of these things. Plausibility and probability are what make anecdotes reusable in otherwise dissimilar contexts. For Fineman, the plague in Thucydides is phenomenological and thus based on plausible and probable experience. For this reason, it follows, the plague was a serviceable anecdote for Lucretius. 285 The prelinguistic historeme operates in the same way but is not limited to the straightforwardly iterative practice suggested by Fineman. Thanks to the processes of assimilation, which entail the modification and diffusion of embodied schemas, the plausibility of prelinguistic historemes allows for a wide range of expression in any number of meaningful situations and circumstances. This is significant because the probability of bodily experiences and 284 Cairns 2017a: 4; Cairns and Nelis 2017: 11-12 identifies the understanding of emotion as an “essential tool of the ancient historian’s art,” noting that emotion is a fundamental aspect of ancient historiography, “both as a cause of historical events and as a fundamental aspect of the presentation and reception of historical narratives.” 285 De rerum natura 6.1138-1286. 78 movements, and the ease with which socially structured emotions are choreographed by them, makes prelinguistic historemes not just memorable, but re-memorable. The relationship between probability and re-memorability will be discussed in detail in the following two sections, but to get at what I mean by “re-memorability,” allow me to draw attention to modern memory studies which find that memories are dynamic rather than static in nature. That means, essentially, when we “remember” something, we are actually “remembering” the last time we “remembered” it – we are re-remembering it. This seems to be the case because the reactivation of a memory through re-exposure to salient stimuli results in mnemonic destabilization, necessitating a restabilization process known as reconsolidation. 286 A number of studies over the last 15 or so years have shown that consolidated memories revert to a vulnerable state when they are retrieved (i.e. the trace is reactivated). 287 These active (i.e. reactivated) memories can then again undergo another consolidation process, which is in many ways similar to the formation of a new memory. 288 This additional process has hence been named memory reconsolidation. 289 What I am suggesting based on this is that when a memory trace (read: prelinguistic historeme) is engaged, memory becomes unstable and susceptible to updated information which can become a part of “the” memory. Remembering itself becomes a form of discourse by virtue of the prelinguistic historeme, which is itself a particular sort of bodily memory that is constantly updated as it is re-remembered, a process that is essential to the never-ending process of assimilation that maintains any emotional regime. Recall, for example, the reciprocal sympathies that create discourse between Ovid’s Daphne and Echo. By way of the desire to escape expressed by Daphne -- encapsulated by her bodily movement -- the conceptualization of Echo’s longing for Narcissus is affected, which in turn effects a 286 Lee 2008. 287 Alberini and LeDoux 2013. 288 Ibid. 289 Ibid. 79 reconceptualization of Daphne’s experience -- aversion is conflated with desire. To learn of Echo is to activate a memory trace that then re-remember Daphne vis-à-vis the reconsolidation of a bodily memory first forged in infancy. The examples that appear in this chapter begin to demonstrate the contextual flexibility of embodied schemas that generate prelinguistic historemes, which enable the creative (re)performance of motion and emotion in Roman texts, and are an element of constitutive rhetoric that functions to (re)create a collective identity for an audience. PROBABILITY When discussing the creative license ancient historiographers enjoyed, Woodman imagines that “if we, with our superior knowledge, were to say to them that a given core element was false, I imagine they would be glad for the information. … If, on the other hand, we were to say to an ancient historian that a given example of exaedificatio was untrue, he would no doubt reply, with some indignation, ‘It must have been like that’.” 290 Because embodied meaning-making entails a creative (re)performance by both author and reader, I want to suggest that in terms of the prelinguistic historeme we use Woodman’s phrasing but alter his emphasis to “it must have been like that.” That is to say, we can think of the narrative scaffolding supplied by the prelinguistic historeme as an element of exaedificatio, which relies on the probability of the (re)performance of mundane bodily experiences for its believability. I suggest this because “truth” in ancient historiography is simply that which is plausible, 291 and what is most plausible is most commonly understood, and what is most 290 Woodman 1988 citing Wiseman 1981. Exaedificatio refers to the superstructure of the narrative (the battle, the description of the area the speech, the capture, etc.) which takes up an intermediary position between source material and a totally fictitious narrative. See den Hengst 2010: 20. 291 Woodman 1988 identifies this through Thuc.1.22.4: καὶ ἐς μὲν ἀκρόασιν ἴσως τὸ μὴ μυθῶδες αὐτῶν ἀτερπέστερον φανεῖται: ὅσοι δὲ βουλήσονται τῶν τε γενομένων τὸ σαφὲς σκοπεῖν καὶ τῶν μελλόντων ποτὲ αὖθις κατὰ τὸ ἀνθρώπινον τοιούτων καὶ παραπλησίων ἔσεσθαι, ὠφέλιμα κρίνειν αὐτὰ ἀρκούντως ἕξει (“Perhaps the non-mythical nature of these accounts will seem less pleasurable to audiences—but it will be pleasing enough if whoever desires to examine past events clearly and the types of similar events that will 80 commonly understood is bodily experience. This means that bodily experience -- even and perhaps especially that which is expressed through elements of speech we do not automatically expect to participate in bodily meaning-making – provides the affective scaffolding necessary for the mutual resonance of bodies to occur across texts and contexts. One prelinguistic schema (i.e. scaffold) that was already explored in Chapter Two, is that of fear, which is seen to frequently involve trembling and/or rupture and movement. A most basic conceptualization of “being struck by fear” goes back to Ennius (metu perculsus in trag. 52-53 quoted by Cicero De div. 1.42.6-7. Often durative in its effect on those stricken, fear conceived of in this way is found in Sallust: Cat. 6.4.2: in reference to allies having fear in the context of envy (metu perculsi) Iug. 40.4.2: guilty men in fear of envious parties (metu perculsis) Iug. 58.2.1-2: Romans taken by ambush (irrumpit, repintino metu perculsi) In Cic. 5.12: describing political circumstances (metu perculsos) And in Livy: AUC 2.9.5: in reference to potential fear and surrender of plebs in response to Porsinna’s invasion of Roman territory (metu perculsa) AUC 21.5.4: in reference to fear and surrender of smaller towns facing Hannibal (metu perculsae) AUC 31.38.3-4: of enemy troops in counterfactual world (perculsos, momento temporis, inter tumultum, metu perculsi) AUC 35.29.11: of a tyrant in battle (perculso metu) AUC 44.45.3: of those preparing to surrender to Rome (metu perculsi) Always in perfect participial form, schematic content related to this fear metaphor only cooccurs in contexts where the startle reflex grounds the passages (Iug. 58.2.1-2; AUC 31.38.4). With certain kinds of fear, the startle reflex is “built into” the metaphor through sound. This is the case, for example, when fear is related to divine power. For example, the metaphor happen again in the future because of human nature judges these writings helpful”) and Cic.Inv. 1.7.9: inventio est excogitatio rerum verarum aut veri similium, quae causam probabilem reddant (“invention is the discovery of valid or seemingly valid arguments to render one’s cause plausible”. 81 metu attonitus, which is used mainly by Augustan and post-Augustan authors, is found in AUC 10.41.4, when the Samnites are dazed in fear of gods and men (i.e. the Romans). It is also used by Ovid to describe how Faunus responds to the feel of Heracles’s lionskin (Fast. 2.341). One presumes the grounding of this particular metaphor is explained by Vergil, who describes a mixture of sound and fear caused by Jupiter’s thunderbolts (Aen.8.431): fulgores nunc horrificos sonitumque metumque miscebant operi flammisque sequacibus iras, 292 which is clearly meant to encapsulate the startle caused by the crack of a lightning strike. The startling aspect of fear in response to something naturally powerful carries over to narratives more generally concerned with power and powerlessness. 293 For example, Valerius Maximus (5.5.3.8) uses it to describe the alarm experienced by Tiberius at news Drusus was seriously ill. Here, we find schematic content: metu attonitus…erumperet… rapidum…uno spiritu. This notion of a “striking” sound, rupture, and a sudden gasp also structures Livy (AUC 7.36): iam evaserant media castra, cum superscandens vigilum strata somno corpora miles offenso scuto praebuit sonitum; quo excitatus vigil cum proximum movisset erectique alios concitarent, ignari cives an hostes essent. praesidium erumperet an consul castra cepisset, Decius, quoniam non fallerent, clamorem tollere iussis militibus torpidos somno insuper pavore exanimat, quo praepediti nec arma impigre capere nec obsistere nec insequi poterant. (AUC 7.36) 292 “they were blending into the work terrifying flashes, sounds, fears, fury with following flames.” 293 See Kaster 2005, who bases his examination of emotion on “up to me” and “not up to me” perspective taking. They had already got half way through the camp, when a soldier in stepping over the bodies of some sleeping sentries struck (offenso) his shield and made a sound. A sentry was awakened (excitatus) by this, and having shaken (movisset) his neighbor, they stood up and began to rouse (concitarent) the rest, not knowing whether they had to do with friends or foes, whether the party on the hill was breaking out (erumperet) or the consul had captured the camp. Decius, seeing that they were discovered, gave the order to his men, and they sent up such a shout that the Samnites, who had been stupefied with sleep, were now in addition breathless with terror (pavore exanimat) which prevented them from either arming promptly or making a stand against the Romans or pursuing them. 82 The “type” of passage this is, based on linguistic overlap, would be grouped with Sallust’s Iug.99: Deinde ubi lux adventabat, defessis iam hostibus ac paulo ante somno captis, de improviso vigiles, item cohortium turmarum legionum tubicines simul omnis signa canere, milites clamorem tollere atque portis erumpere iubet. Mauri atque Gaetuli, ignoto et horribili sonitu repente exciti, neque fugere neque arma capere neque omnino facere aut providere quicquam poterant: ita cunctos strepitu clamore, nullo subveniente, nostris instantibus, tumultu formidine terror quasi vecordia ceperat. Denique omnes fusi fugatique arma et signa militaria pleraque capta, pluresque eo proelio quam omnibus superioribus interempti. Nam somno et metu insolito impedita fuga. (Iug.99) Then, when day approached, and the enemy were exhausted and just sinking to sleep, he ordered the sentinels, with the trumpeters of the auxiliary cohorts, cavalry, and legions, to sound all their instruments at once, and the soldiers, at the same time, to raise a shout, and burst forth (erumpere) from the camp upon the enemy. The Moors and Getulians, suddenly roused (repente exciti) by the strange and terrible noise (horribili sonitu), could neither flee, nor take up arms, could neither act, nor provide for their security, so completely had fear (terror), like a stupor (quasi vecordia), from the uproar and alarm, the absence of support, the charge of our troops, and the tumult and alarm, seized upon them all. The whole of them were consequently routed and put to flight; most of their arms, and military standards, were taken; and more were killed in this than in all former battles, their escape being impeded by sleep and fear (metu). 294 Both passages can be thought of as prototypical examples of how certain narratives grounded in the startle reflex are schematically structured by autonomic bodily knowledge. But the above anecdote of Valerius Maximus helps us to spot a difference between them, despite their being highly correlated in terms of context and language. In both cases, the Romans startle enemy troops from their slumber. Jugurtha’s troops are startled awake intentionally in Sallust, while the Samnites are startled awake unintentionally in Livy. Both narratives are structured by the metaphor metu attonitus, which is created anew with the help of the concepts of sonitu…metu and offenso…pavore, respectively, which resonate with Vergil’s sonitumque metumque miscebant. Moreover, the language used to describe events is similar: 294 Translation adapted from Watson 1899. 83 erumperet/erumpere; excitatus/exciti; pavore/formidine, terror, metu. Note also clamorem tollere and cepisset…capere; capere…ceperat. 295 While we could simply call these representative examples of a “type-scene” and move on, that would be unjustly dismissive of the embodied aspects of the texts and the meaning those aspects carry. To avoid making this error, note that both narratives incorporate rupture in the context of fear, which is described by Sallust with a simile (terror quasi vecordia). Livy, rather than using a figure of speech, evokes the same experience solely through the structure and order of the narrative (offenso…excitatus… movisset…concitarent…erumperet…pavore exanimat). As previously discussed, terror was, according to Cicero, used to refer to autonomic responses, like changes in complexion related to blood-flow. Vecordia means something like being without heart or blood, sense or judgement. So, the simile is based on autonomic information. The state of mind is one that resembles a certain paleness of skin and the bodily sensations (or lack thereof) that accompany it. In modern English, we would perhaps say “all the blood drained from their bodies” to capture the same mental experience of being scared senseless. Pavor, which, according to Cicero, literally means “a trembling” refers to the “movement” of mens or sapiens away from its place in the chest, which is suggested by Cicero to refer to the escape of breath from the body. 296 We see this quite vividly in Livy, who caps his schema off with pavore exanimat. Striking, stirring, moving, moving together, bursting forth and losing breath combine to qualify and thereby historicize pavore exanimat in such a way as to distinguish it from Sallust’s terror quasi vecordia, both of which are grounded in the startle reflex and depend upon embodied notions of arousal and bursting forth (excitare and erumpere) for their full meaning. Therefore, I would suggest we find here examples – especially robust in Livy -- of exaedificatio in the “it must have been like that” 295 It is worth noting that both authors iterate capere, a verb of grasping. Verbs of grasping are associated with mental states that could be at play here. See Short 2012. 296 Tusc. 4.19 citing Ennius. 84 sense. While both authors use the startle reflex to scaffold their narratives, Sallust uses a simile to emphasize the rushing of blood away from the surface of the skin, while Livy scaffolds his narrative around the escape of breath from the body. In both cases we learn about how the physical experience of fear associated with the metaphor was used by ancient authors to structure their narratives within their own embodied context. Based on the bodily resonance we can spot in these narratives, I would also like to refine the distinction made between monumenta -- the kernels of truth, or “hard core” -- at the center of historical narrative, and their artistic elaboration, 297 by suggesting that the embodied experience of being startled is the ultimate “hard core” at the center of the narrative that lends it credibility. The description of events is an artistic elaboration of that “core”, which we see not only in Sallust and Livy above, but especially in Livy’s take on Polybius and the apparent invitation to craft energeia, by means of which he gives a peculiar vividness to Hannibal’s “view” of Italy. He does this through the use of an embodied analogy that treats Rome as a tangible and portable object not easily held. In light of this, it is of note that Cicero translates ἐνάργεια as evidentia and points to its quality of believability being based on repeated or reproducible evidence (ipsa evidentia reperiri posse). 298 Such reproducible evidence, he says, can be indistinguishable from “the actual” in terms of memory and feeling. 299 In Livy (AUC 21.35-36), “the actual” is the outcome of Hannibal scaling the walls of Italy – the Carthaginians were unable to gain hold of Rome. The common haptic experience of failed grasping is “the real” (caput Italiae in manu ac potestate habituros… lubrica non recipiente). The “truth of the matter” is anchored in memory by readily reproducible bodily experience. Such bodily experience is the “hard core” at the center of the narrative, which is also what allows it to resonate within its own historical context, that is, provide le sens du jeu. For this 297 Woodman 1988. See also Grant 1995 and Gill & Wiseman 1993 re. ornamenta and inventio. 298 Cic.Luc.17. 299 Cicero here follows Carneades. See Vasaly 1993: 92. 85 reason, the slight but significant change of emphasis to Woodman’s quote seems both reasonable and appropriate, as does the suggestion that the body plays an important role in the construction of memory. 300 Additional examples in support of this will occur throughout the chapter as we develop the significance of these observations in preparation for an examination of the role of bodily metaphors in a series of case studies. RE-MEMORABILITY Re-remembering is at the heart of intertextualities of the sort identified by Woodman in his introduction to the Cambridge Companion to Tacitus, wherein he notes that the evocation of Vergil in a description of Morbodius hiding in his wooded lair encourages the reader to remember Morbodius as “the type” Tacitus intended. To read about Morbodius is to “re- remember” Vergil’s snake, which is an example of metahistory. The intertext fuses human and animal into an historical concept. The prelinguistic historeme operates in a similar manner. Continuing our look into prelinguistic fear historemes grounded in the startle reflex, let’s consider Tacitus’s Annales 1.28, which details the events surrounding Drusus’s restoration of order to mutinous troops in Pannonia: 300 See e.g. Sutton 2014: 317. “As well as being a conduit for sharing and renegotiating experience, the body can also be a cue or trigger for personal memory experiences, where this can occur either deliberately or unintentionally.” 86 Noctem minacem et in scelus erupturam fors lenivit: nam luna claro repente caelo visa languescere. id miles rationis ignarus omen praesentium accepit, suis laboribus defectionem sideris adsimulans, prospereque cessura qua pergerent si fulgor et claritudo deae redderetur. igitur aeris sono, tubarum cornuumque concentu strepere; prout splendidior obscuriorve laetari aut maerere; et postquam ortae nubes offecere visui creditumque conditam tenebris, ut sunt mobiles ad superstitionem perculsae semel mentes, sibi aeternum laborem portendi, sua facinora aversari deos lamentantur. utendum inclinatione ea Caesar et quae casus obtulerat in sapientiam vertenda ratus circumiri tentoria iubet… spem offerunt, metum intendunt. (Ann. 1.28) 301 Translation adapted from Moore and Jackson 1931. It was a night of menace in the verge of breaking out (erupturam) into criminality when chance moderated. For suddenly (repente) the moon was seen to be losing light in a clear sky. The soldiers, who had no idea of the reason, took it as an omen of the present state of affairs: the labouring planet was an emblem of their own struggles, and their road would lead them to a happy goal if her brilliance and purity could be restored to the goddess. Accordingly, the silence was broken by the blended sound of trumpets and horns (igitur aeris sono, tubarum cornuumque concentu strepere); the watchers rejoiced or mourned as their deity brightened or faded, until rising clouds curtained off the view and she set, as they believed, in darkness. So movable toward superstition are minds, once struck (sunt mobiles ad superstitionem perculsae semel mentes), they began to wail the eternal hardships thus foreshadowed and their crimes from which the face of heaven was averted. This turn of the scale, the Caesar reflected, must be put to use: wisdom should reap where chance has sown…suggesting hope and emphasizing fear (metum). 301 87 The passage is framed with erupturam…metum, which is similar to Sallust’s framing of erumpere…metu, which in turn echoes in Livy’s highly resonant offenso…pavore, which resounds in Tacitus with perculsae mentes. The core of the framing idea is betrayed by the omnipresence of rupture in all of the narratives, which is ultimately derived from the THE BODY IS A CONTAINER conceptual metaphor which construes intense emotion as “bursting” from the body as if fluid under pressure. We also find an auditory element associated with the arousal of fear as we saw in Sallust and Livy (igitur aeris sono, tubarum cornuumque concentu strepere), which strengthens the resonance between the passages. In Tacitus, Drusus capitalizes on the situation in the manner of his shrewd predecessor, Scipio, whom Polybius identified as skilled in the crafty exploitation of superstition and its attendant emotions, 302 and whose confrontation of a 206 BCE uprising in Spain was recounted by Livy and is the principal intertext for Tacitus’s narrative. 303 But it is important to recognize that by virtue of the sonorous metaphor underpinning the narrative, Drusus also embodies Sallust’s Marius and Livy’s Decius Mus, whose success in their parallel narratives depended upon the fear and disorientation of enemy soldiers, with whom the mutinous Roman troops are aligned through a prelinguistic historeme which functions to underline the need for Romans to wake up to political reality. 304 In the process of tacitly aligning the Roman military with foreign enemies, the Roman troops are “othered” much like Roman citizens were by Sallust in his Bellum Catalinae, who refers to them as hostis. 305 More than just a conventional type-scene, the prelinguistic fear historeme, by virtue of the bodily memory associated with it, bridges narratives into a contingent and historically grounded 302 See Scullard 1929: 19. 303 See Woodman 2006. 304 See Pelling 2012: 293. The army could play a crucial role in making or breaking a princeps. 305 Hostis, historically as well as earlier in the same treatise, is a term used to refer to outsiders. Sallust’s application of the term to Romans emerged from the civil strife of the first century BCE, and marks a change in the perception of Roman identity. See Melchior 2010. 88 context. That is to say, Scipio, Marius, Decius Mus, and Drusus are all necessary to capturing the significance of Tacitus’s narrative in the context in which it was written, because they stand in relation to the transhistorical embodied experience of soldiers who threaten the stability of Rome. In this way, the historeme enables “what belongs together in truth to gradually grow together, and related entities to shake hands and bridge the gap of time, even if they are widely separated and without an otherwise accessible link between [them].” 306 Re- remembering the bodily knowledge associated with the prelinguistic fear historeme thus assimilates these narratives to one another by virtue of their common nature. It is the transhistorical body that facilitates such dialogue. My suggestion is that when we re-remember the bodily experience and meaning associated with a prelinguistic historeme, we spontaneously integrate analogies made between a variety of subjects and circumstances, drawing upon our unconscious knowledge of “natural kinds.” From this view, the above discussed representations of “being struck by fear” can be seen as examples of Piaget’s assimilation, modification, and diffusion. The passages are scaffolded by the schema of a bodily metaphor which represents a “kernel of truth” produced by and productive of the socially situated cognitive unconscious. 307 By reading the texts this way – taking into account their prelinguistic architecture – we see that while ancient authors often discuss emotions as private, quasi-biological responses that endanger reason, their narratives are nevertheless structured by the transhistorical body and the intercorporeal, rhetorically significant, collective performances it generates across texts and contexts. 306 Grethlein 2013: 3 quoting von Doderer 1956. 307 See also Lizardo 2004: 389; See (e.g.) of the Samnites at AUC.10.41.4: instare Romanus a cornu utroque, a media acie et caedere deorum hominumque attonitos metu (“on came the Romans from either wing and from the centre, and cut them down as they stood there dazed by the dread of gods and men”), and in Lucan Bel.Civ.7.133-34: sua quisque pericula nescit, adtonitus maiore metu (“each knew not their peril, having been struck by greater fear”). 89 Prelinguistic historemes represent these collective performances, which display practical knowledge derived from a generative schema of embodied regularities. Prelinguistic historemes thus provide a relational model for analyzing normative styles of emotional expression in Latin texts, and how such expressions function to structure the sentiment and affective identity of those to whom they are addressed. In the case of the threatening soldiers, the audience is given not only the opportunity to (re)remember fear as a lived experience, but also to re-remember Roman history in such a way as to account for their status as contingent viewers of it. In one very important way, to remember Drusus’s troops is to re-remember Livy’s Samnites and Jugurtha’s men. The transhistorical, semantic body is ever in dialogue with past and present expressions of value. Prelinguistic historemes are re-rememberings which provide insight into how the intercorporeality of language defies the notion that reason and sentiment can be treated as contradictory by those analyzing Latin texts. Bodily experience has an immense influence on the development of patterns of inference and the creation of abstract meaning. 308 Re-remembering bodily experience is what allows bodies and minds to think together and (re)produce an emotional regime through the self-reflexive networks of intercorporeal literature. 309 Prelinguistic historemes can therefore be seen to generate vivid impressions in dialogue with an audience’s most basic values, readying them for deliberative action within their own readerly context. 308 While perhaps not informed by the same scholarship, the connection between body and meaning has not been lost on philologists, who have already begun to explore the relationship between bodily movement and emotion in Roman texts (see e.g. Zanobi 2014; Kubiak 1981). Nor was this lost on ancient authors. Aristotle, for example, recognized the importance of movement to crafting metaphor (Rhet.3.11.1: 1411b), and both Cicero and Seneca regularly identify various mental states as motus animi, movement of (some embodied aspect of) mind. 309 Sloane 2001: 616. 90 THE TRANSHISTORICAL BODY & EPISTEMOLOGICAL PARADIGMS In Chapter Two, I argued that while events are historically situated, socioemotional information is transmitted by the semantic body, which is transhistorical. I have also argued that the “local effects” of mind-body analogies and extended metaphors constitute a rhetoric of socialization which, through what Bourdieu called “the most insignificant techniques of the body,” generates the conditions necessary for collective identities to emerge. The common bodily knowledge of prelinguistic historemes acts as an element of persuasion, drawing individuals into similarly “moving” groups that are defined in terms of value and sentiment. Prelinguistic historemes can thus be thought of as gathering places that, when taken in sum, form the architecture of a given emotional regime, underpinning reason with bodily knowledge and providing a framework for further knowledge acquisition. I now want to consider this further by very briefly returning to the idea that prelinguistic historemes are inventional and grouping resources that reveal a public’s values 310 and thereby enable authors to bring about or increase the adherence of minds to the theses they propose. 311 I began this chapter by looking at prelinguistic fear historemes, because fear is uncontroversial in its organization around fight-or-flight. I refer to “fight-or-flight” as an organizing principle because it is representative of the bedrock of our cognitive processes, which is founded on an epistemological paradigm known as “avoidance-approach.” Simply put, we tend to avoid (either literally in the physical world or figuratively in the social world) what we view negatively (i.e. fear), and approach (either literally in the physical world or figuratively in the social world) what we view positively (i.e. desire). 312 Flight is avoidance. 310 Palczewski 2015: 7. 311 Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca 1969: 4. 312 Avoidance-approach has been a central component of behavioral analysis since Plato, who insists that pleasure and pain are central to emotional definition (see Rosenwein 2006: 34). Iterations are found in Cicero and Hobbes (see Rosenwein 2016: 17; 289). Reddy 2001: 22 identifies Frijda’s similar suggestion that pleasantness-unpleasantness is the origin of all goals. He also cites Lang’s “aversive” and “appetitive” distinction. I should say that I do not see need for the restraint Lang did by identifying these states as mutually exclusive and therefore unable to occur at the same time. Or rather, I don’t dispute that one cannot move forward and backward at the same time, but I do think the duration examined as “a unit of time” matters quite a 91 Fight is desire. Some researchers have suggested that avoidance-approach is a fundamental and basic distinction “that should be construed as the foundation on which other motivational distinctions rest.” 313 Having provided a number of examples of fear, one of the most basic emotions associated with avoidance-approach, let’s now move on to the other -- desire. Desire, for obvious reasons, impels us to return to poetry, as we did when we began exploring it with Daphne and Echo in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. We will examine both sides of the avoidance-approach paradigm more extensively (and in prose) in Chapter Six, but I will provide an introduction here. What I aim to suggest at this time is only that we can spot the expansive generative capacities of the avoidance-approach bodily matrix in poetry, where it is used to demonstrate existing social bonds and/or willing bonds of affection. We see, for example, Creusa’s bodily movement used to demonstrate existing social bonds and/or willing bonds of affection in Vergil’s Aeneid 2.673-4: Ecce autem complexa pedes in limine coniunx haerebat, parvumque patri tendebat Iulum. 314 To illustrate the broad nature of this bodily metaphor, one might note that similar bodily movement is present already in Homer’s Iliad (1.500-01): καί ῥα πάροιθ᾽ αὐτοῖο καθέζετο, καὶ λάβε γούνων σκαιῇ, δεξιτερῇ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ὑπ᾽ ἀνθερεῶνος ἑλοῦσα. 315 Although “sitting” and “taking” are less vivid in terms of movement, it is unambiguous that Thetis must stretch her arm upwards as she sits at Zeus’s feet. She is stationary and stretching toward him. Taking notice of the prelinguistic architecture across time and cultural context does not preclude a meaningful correlation between the Aeneid passage and, say, the famous scene between Andromache and Hector at the end of Book Six, of which it is clearly evocative, but it adds emotional dimension that enables us to see a lot in how we understand the emotional dimension of avoidance-approach behavior. Who hasn’t wavered back and forth when trying to make a tough decision? What is a pro and con list, if not written testimony to these impulses existing as equal parts of a singular experience? 313 Elliot and Covington 2001. 314 “but at the threshold clung Creusa to my knees, and lifted up Iulus to his father's arms.” 315 “So she sat down before him, and clasped his knees with her left hand, while with her right she touched him beneath the chin.” 92 deeply entrenched similarity between the concepts of Aeneas and Zeus, as well as Creusa and Thetis. The coherence of these representative figures is quietly and perhaps intuitively established through the movement and positioning of Thetis’s and Creusa’s bodies, which, as we have seen, is also re-remembered through the language of bodily and mental movement in Ovid’s descriptions of Daphne and Echo. The movement of the transhistorical body provides the “kernel of truth” at the center of the prelinguistic historeme. The desire to be out of a particular situation, as in Daphne’s case, is structured around stretching away. The desire to be in a particular situation, as in Creusa’s case, is structured around stretching toward. But these movements are in essence identical -- their meaning is based on a shift of perspective. Look again at the infant from Chapter One: The infant is both reaching away from the floor and toward his mother, so we can describe the picture by saying that the infant “wants off the floor” or that he “wants his mother,” or both, depending on our perspective on the situation. Daphne both wants to get away from Apollo and wants her father’s assistance. Echo both wants to be near Narcissus and away from that very desire. The freedom of perspective on movement demonstrates the adaptability of the prelinguistic architecture, which is based on some of our earliest movements and social interactions. 93 It is no wonder, then, that we find the same paradigm used by Lucretius to explore the science of attraction (i.e. desire): nonne vides etiam quos mutua saepe voluptas vinxit, ut in vinclis communibus excrucientur? in triviis cum saepe canes, discedere aventes, divorsi cupide summis ex viribus tendunt, quom interea validis Veneris compagibus haerent. (Lucr. 4.1201-5) Do you not see also, when mutual pleasure has enchained a pair, how they are often tormented in their common chains? For often dogs at the crossways, desiring to part, pull hard in different directions with all their strength, when all the while they are held fast in the strong couplings of Venus. 316 Seeking a pleasurable bond while straining against it engages the same epistemological paradigm noted of Daphne and Echo, both of whom move in accordance with the avoidance- approach schema. On the opposite end of the spectrum can be found a representation of grief at Aeneid 10.844-45: et ambas ad caelum tendit palmas et corpore inhaeret, 317 where we find the same embodied paradigm used in a different context. Mezentius, mourning the death of Lausus, clinging to the corpse, stretches his hands up to the sky in anguish, a bodily position that closely resembles that of Daphne. He is stretching away from the corpse and the lost social bond it represents at the same time as stretching toward the sky in search of relief. “Love” was for women, it would seem, conceived of in terms of bodily movement that “felt” not unlike “Grief” for men. This of course ties into the general “marriage is like death” notion that stretches at least as far back into the ancient imagination as Persephone and Hades. This prelinguistic historeme can also be visualized like this: 316 Rouse and Smith 1992. 317 “he both stretched his hands to the sky and clung to the corpse.” 94 Through these simple examples we thus get a sense of the generative matrix sustained by bodily schemas that function as epistemological paradigms. The same bodily movement structures various narratives, which are all thereby grounded in the prelinguistic, socially- situated unconscious. The “feeling” that links sex and love with death and grief is represented through the movement and position of the transhistorical body, which is able to convey complex emotional states that were seen as a mixture of (if not a conflict between) avoidance and approach intuitions. At home in a variety of contexts, the prelinguistic historeme is a grouping resource that reveals a set of values used by authors to bring about or increase the adherence of their readers to the emotional regime and attendant practices such values represent. 318 318 E.g. virilocality and funeral rituals. Avoidance Approach Love & Grief away/flight toward/fight 95 A NEW TYPE OF TYPE SCENE The avoidance-approach paradigm, as one might expect, structures the concept of rejection, which is commonly expressed with aspernatio in Latin. 319 I turn attention to this because it affords an excellent example of assimilation and the complex modification and diffusion of the avoidance-approach schema that can accompany it. The etymology of sperno generally connects it to the feet, with the sense of “trample” or “pushing away with the foot” at its core. 320 For this reason, it also means “to kick,” which is to move one’s foot toward something in order to push it away. 321 By virtue of its root, aspernor captures not only movement toward and away, but also a “downward” movement, because sperno, in the sense of “trample” is to push down by stepping upon, which is a means of pushing something down and away with one’s foot. It entails an approach made toward something in order to push it away as well as downward. 322 In Latin, as we have already seen, movement that is downward and away (frequently expressed by the prefix de-) 323 has a negative force in many conceptualizations. So, in addition to the avoidance-approach paradigm, directional meaning is also present in the term aspernatio, which “feels” like approaching something to push it away and down. The approach aspect signifies desire, while the away and down aspects signify rejection and negative sentiment. It is a desire to reject (i.e. to push down and away). The “feeling” associated with aspernor can be modified and diffused. Such modifications and diffusions of sentiment do not require the shifting out of one word for another of similar meaning and can occur through a combination of terms. See, for example, Sen. Ep.94.56: calcendumque ac premendum dedit quidquid est propter quod calcamur ac premimur (“she bade those feet stamp and press down everything that causes us to be 319 The TLL gives etymology ab et spernere (TLL, vol. II, p. 823, lin. 51). The prefix would seem to emphasize the effect. 320 De Vaan 2008: 579. 321 Ibid. 322 A negative connotation for downward and away movement is found in many languages. See (e.g.) “downtrodden” (English); “niedergeschlagen” (German); “καταπιεσμένος” (modern Greek). 323 For broad discussion of the preposition de see Short 2013. 96 stamped and pressed down”). In fact, there is no limit to the creative (re)configurations accommodated by the schema. Take as an example Tullian’s De Pallio: Atquin nullis uitiis adulor, nullis ueternis parco, nulli impetigini. Adigo cauterem ambitioni, qua M. Tullius quingentis milibus nummum orbem citri emit, qua bis tantum Asinius Gallus pro mensa eiusdem Mauritaniae numerat ---- hem, quantis facultatibus aestimauere ligneas maculas! ----, item qua lances centenarii ponderis Sulla molitur … Immergo aeque scalpellum acerbitati ei, qua Vedius Pollio seruos muraenis inuadendos obiectabat. (Pall.5.5.3 – 5.6.1) 324 Indeed, I do not flatter any vices, do not spare any old dirt or any scab. I drive the cauterizing-iron toward the ambition that induced M. Tullius to buy a round table of citrus-wood for 500,000 sestertii, that induced Asinius Gallus to spend twice this much for a table from the same Mauretania -- gosh, at what huge sums did they estimate those blotches in wood -- and that likewise induced Sulla to have dishes constructed of a hundred pounds … I equally plunge the scalpel into the bad taste that induced Vedius Pollio to throw his slaves down to the eels to feed upon. 325 First note the use of the word veternus, which in medical texts refers to lethargy and is conceptualized as “a sinking down” (demersio). This downward movement has a treatable symptom, ambitio, a term cognate with “honoris cupido” that is at times glossed with ϰενοδοξία, “vanity,” hence its meaning of “popularity seeking” which was tied into the practice of politicians canvasing their voters by “going around” to solicit their votes (ambire). 326 This “popularity seeking” is treated by means of a hot iron. Adigo cauterem ambitioni is a blended metaphor heavily dependent upon the verb adigo for its meaning, which is highlighted by syntax that demands the reader hold the action of the verb in mind for a sustained period of time. Adigere – to drive toward – is often used to refer to the driving of livestock 327 and is the motion that governs this lengthy sentence, so to drive a hot-iron toward something is to drive that something away from oneself. As used by Tertullian here, adigo is to approach so as to push away, which corresponds to the Roman bodily conceptualizations 324 Text as printed in Hunink 2005. 325 Translation adapted from Hunink 2005. 326 TLL, vol. I, p. 1851, lin. 57ff. 327 E.g. Pl. Bac. 5.2: quis has huc ovis adegit (“Who has been driving these sheep to us?”); Caes. B. G. 7.17.3: pecore ex longinquioribus vicis adacto (“with cattle driven from the remote villages”). Hunink notes that cauter is first used to refer to a medical burning instrument by Tertullian. 97 of rejection communicated through Latin words like aspernatio, which are structured by the avoidance-approach schema. 328 Adigo and aspernor are in the same motive and thus conceptual field. The next leading verb in Tertullian’s passage is immergere “to plunge down into” in the sense of immerse, which plays off of the medical sense of veternus in terms of demersio (“a sinking down”). The negative evaluation denoted by aspernor, which is actively physical in its conceptualization in terms of movement away and downwards, thus reflects the affectivity of the avoidance-approach schema, which can manifest in any number of imaginative configurations. I would thus like to suggest that avoidance-approach configurations represent a new type of type scene which, like a standard literary type scene is based upon a basic scaffolding that allows for creative adaptations, but of prelinguistic affective information. A NEW TYPE OF ENTHYMEME Type scenes qua prelinguistic historemes are perhaps best understood as enthymemes. The word enthymeme (from ἐνθυμεῖσθαι — “to consider”), while perhaps best known in the Aristotelian sense, namely as a συλλογισμός (“deductive argument”), was coined by his predecessors, for whom the term referred to clever sayings, bon mots, and short arguments involving a paradox or contradiction. 329 Though not an understanding expressed by ancient authors, I think it is useful when reading Latin texts to consider prelinguistic historemes -- the smallest minimal units of historiographic fact that possesse a peculiar and eventful narrative force rooted in “the real” – as a kind of enthymeme. I suggest this based upon the notion that seems to have underpinned the term, however defined by ancient authors, which is namely that of a proposition that is implicit rather than explicit and can be understood in terms of the de re intuitions of properties or states of affairs that ground or justify our assent to propositions 328 For bodily schemas is Roman thought and language see Short (e.g. 2012; 2013; 2013a). 329 See Rapp 2010: https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/aristotle-rhetoric/#enthymeme 98 involving them. We could similarly identify Seneca’s principia proludentia adfectibus in terms of prelinguistic historemes and their enthymematic properties, which make certain beliefs attractive to us, “moving” us in the direction of accepting certain propositions without taking us all the way to acceptance. I use the concept of principia proludentia adfectibus to think about the enthymematic property of the prelinguistic historeme because it seems a reasonable interpretation that also helps us to stop thinking about arguments in a disembodied way. As to what I mean by this, take as an example the content and composition of Cicero’s De orat.2.190: Neque est enim facile perficere, ut irascatur, cui tu velis, iudex, si tu ipse id lente ferre videare; neque ut oderit eum, quem tu velis, nisi te ipsum flagrantem odio ante viderit; neque ad misericordiam adducetur, nisi tu ei signa doloris tui verbis, sententiis, voce, vultu, collacrimatione denique ostenderis; ut enim nulla materies tam facilis ad exardescendum est, quae nisi admoto igni ignem concipere possit, sic nulla mens est tam ad comprehendendam vim oratoris parata, quae possit incendi, nisi ipse inflammatus ad eam et ardens accesserit. For it is not easy to succeed in making an arbitrator angry with the right party, if you yourself seem to treat the affair with indifference; or in making him hate the right party, unless he first sees you on fire with hatred yourself. Nor will he be prompted with compassion, unless you have shown him the tokens your own grief by word, sentiment, tone of voice, look and even by loud lamentation. For just as there is no substance so ready to take fire, as to be capable of generating flame without the application of a spark, so also there is no mind so ready to absorb an orator’s influence, as to be inflammable when the assailing speaker is not himself aglow with passion. 330 In republican and imperial Latin, anger, among other so-called passionate emotions, is frequently ignited or set ablaze, reflecting the bodily effects of passionate emotion, which include the reddening of skin that is warm to the touch. 331 Cicero does not here refer directly to the body when discussing the role of language in producing “hot” emotions, but he does frequently touch upon the “anger is heat” metaphor, which derives from the embodied experience of intense emotion. By iterating this aspect of psychosomatic experience in a short 330 Sutton and Rackham 1948. 331 On reddening of the skin and other heat related conceptualizations see (e.g.) De Ira 1.4-5. 99 span of text, he steadily leads the reader to re-remember the bodily experiences associated with the anger-is-heat metaphor, as well as the memories, associations, and “feelings” coupled with it. His frequent return to the body in this way suggests that instruction on iteration, an important feature of emotionally powerful rhetoric, 332 is an aspect of the composition that engages with the bodies of readers in a demonstration of the way the orator’s speech should engage with the bodies of his audience. In short, what Cicero seems to at least intuit is that if one wishes to cultivate anger, it is helpful to lead the audience to re- remember what the embodied experience of anger “feels” like. Heat as an element of emotion can also structure text in a similarly subtle way to that which we see in the examples of fear above. We see an example of this occurring at AUC 42.54, the structure of which is notable for its fidelity to the elements of Conceptual Metaphor Theory (CMT): Quae res, cum infestiorem hostem ad oppugnandum fecisset, ipsos desperatione veniae ad tuendos sese acrius accendit. Itaque per triduum ingentibus utrimque animis et oppugnata est urbs et defensa. Multitudo Macedonum ad subeundum in vicem proelium haud difficulter suppetebat; oppidanos, diem noctem eosdem tuentes moenia, non vulnera modo, sed etiam vigiliae et continens labor conficiebat. Quarto die cum et scalae undique ad muros erigerentur et porta vi maiore oppugnaretur, oppidani depulsa vi muris ad portam tuendam concurrunt eruptionemque repentinam in hostis faciunt; quae cum irae magis inconsultae quam verae fiduciae virium esset, pauci et fessi ab integris pulsi terga dederunt fugientesque per patentem portam hostes acceperunt. This impertinence both made the enemy more vehement in the attack and fired the citizens, through despair of obtaining pardon, to defend themselves more vigorously. Therefore, for three days with great spirit on both sides the city was1 attacked and defended. The numbers of the Macedonians were easily sufficient to undertake the battle in relays; the townspeople, guarding the walls day and night without relief, were worn out not only by wounds but also by wakefulness and unbroken toil. When on the fourth day ladders were lifted against the walls on all sides and also the gate was attacked with greater violence, the townspeople, after thrusting back the assault on the walls, rallied to guard the gate and made a sudden sally against the enemy; this being more the result of heedless rage than of genuine confidence in their strength, the 332 See Rhet. Her. 4.28. 100 small number of weary men, routed by fresh opponents, turned tail and in their flight let the enemy in through the open gate. CMT finds that, cross-culturally, the loss of control over anger is similarly -- though not identically -- conceived of as erupting out of humans as though their bodies were pressurized containers. 333 This conceptualization is a consequence of the universality of actual physiological mechanisms, such as becoming hot when angry (see accendit). According to the schema CMT identifies, intense emotion is also generally conceived of as being caused by internal stress (see desperatione veniae), as being unintentional (see quae res accendit ipsos), and as being sudden and violent (see eruptionemque repentinam). 334 Accendit…irae inconsultae works together (conceptually not grammatically) with the other constituents to develop the emotional clarity of the narrative through the structuring of the story with, in this case, a nearly universal metaphorical schema that maps the pressurized body onto the manmade environment. The city stands for the body which stands for the mental state of anger, with the people bursting from the city walls acting as pressurized elements. The environment thus represents the bodies of those experiencing it, with each being constitutive of the other. Cicero demonstrated with his heavy use of fire imagery that the arousal of anger can be underwritten by the repetition of conceptual elements associated with the emotion being evoked. Livy’s narrative is structured around the schematic representation of anger as an embodied experience. Both Cicero and Livy thus evince the relationship between mind and body in the expression of emotional experience and thereby augment the believability of their statements, but in Livy we find a prelinguistic historeme. The importance of the body in expressions of ira, which will be the topic of Chapter Five, is evident long before and after Cicero and Livy. Take for example Aristotle’s physiological understanding of intense emotion in his De anima (403a31): ζέσιν τοῦ περὶ τὴν 333 For summary and discussion of occurrences in Latin see Riggsby 2015. 334 See Kövecses 2005: 20 citing Gibbs 1992; 1994. 101 καρδίαν αἵματος καὶ θερμοῦ (“a boiling around the heart of hot blood”), 335 which was likely to some extent related to Homer’s transmogrification of Achilles’s anger into the external environment – a boiling river -- against which he fights. φῆ πυρὶ καιόμενος, ἀνὰ δ᾽ ἔφλυε καλὰ ῥέεθρα. ὡς δὲ λέβης ζεῖ ἔνδον ἐπειγόμενος πυρὶ πολλῷ κνίσην μελδόμενος ἁπαλοτρεφέος σιάλοιο πάντοθεν ἀμβολάδην, ὑπὸ δὲ ξύλα κάγκανα κεῖται, ὣς τοῦ καλὰ ῥέεθρα πυρὶ φλέγετο, ζέε δ᾽ ὕδωρ: Il. 21.361-66 Thus he spoke, burning with fire, his fair streams seething. And as a cauldron boils within when dry kindling is set thereunder and a fierce flame sets upon it, melting the lard of a fatted hog, bubbling in every part; so burned in fire his fair streams, and the water boiled. In the same category of expression is iram in pectore moveri effervescente circa cor sanguine (“anger is aroused in the breast by the boiling of the blood around the heart”), which we find in Seneca’s De ira (2.19.3). One might also recall Pacuvius’ sailors and Seneca’s Deïanira. Both authors, I have argued, externalize the boiling fluid of the body into that of the roiling sea in Homeric fashion. It is from the terminus a quo of embodied experience that both poetic and scientific discourses about ira find their ultimate structure. More purely didactic writings, too, rely on the same embodied scaffolding that allows for the externalization of the internal. For example, we find Seneca’s use of the Herodotean story of Cyrus, who, raging against the river Gyndes, is described as waging a war that had been declared against a foe against a river (3.21): [iratus fuit] Cyrus flumini …. ille bellum indictum hosti cum flumine gerit. The event is described as being quixotic, the result of becoming your own worst enemy by succumbing to resentment, which feeling is externalized into the environment so as to be faced as a foe. Cyrus fights the river in a decidedly different 335 A related method of looking to Homeric vocabulary to evaluate that of philosophy is employed by Beere 2009: 51. 102 manner than Achilles, digging 360 channels to divert water and reduce the river to a stream, which, while successful in managing the intensity of the waters, ultimately cost him his success. This is an allegory for resentment. In Seneca, the river and Cyrus’s battle with it represents an internal experience. The role of the body and water in Seneca’s De ira will be returned to in Chapter Five. For now, what is important to note is simply that the bodily experience of emotion was externalized by ancient authors in a wide variety of genres -- both poetry and prose. 336 This externalization functions as an enthymeme, carrying in it a “kernel of truth” that functions like a rhythm of a verse whose words have been forgotten, representing a dimension of discourse and argumentation dependent upon the transhistorical body and its resonance with other bodies across time and space. REDEFINING THE HISTOREME (part 2) Because we will next move on to three case studies, I want to take a moment to reiterate and pull together the key elements discussed in the first three chapters and suggest a new term for prelinguistic historemes that entail the externalization of internal experience into the external environment. We have seen that the body often represents the mind, by way of which that mind can be transmuted into the environment, encouraging intersubjectivity through intercorporeality. Intercorporeality creates the possibility for group “movement” (i.e. motus anumorum) to emerge, and in the process it (re)produces a particular emotional regime through the re-remembering of bodily experience. Re-remembering is a “bodily art” wherein mind and body think together to (re)produce le sens du jeu, demonstrating the capacity of language to create a collective identity for an audience. Prelinguistic historemes, which are produced by the art of the transhistorical body to enable readers to effortlessly remember and 336 Ovid is also said to have universalized the day-to-day emotional vicissitudes of exile by using the physical world to reflect his internal state, externalizing his internal experiences into the landscape (Classen 1999: 182; 190). 103 re-remember emotional content, function across contexts to organize social knowledge. The movement of the transhistorical body resembles the rhythm of a line of verse whose words have been forgotten, constituting a new type of type scene that creatively adapts prelinguistic affective information to historically contingent audiences, for whom such information constitutes a type of enthymeme. Largely due to this enthymematic quality, I would like to propose a new term for the prelinguistic historeme that externalizes internal experience: enactive analogy. I would propose together with it the following definition: a gestalt structure grounded in the body as metaphor. I chose the term enactive analogy because, as demonstrated above, the prelinguistic architecture of ancient texts frequently involves the integration of internal and external worlds, and the structuring of emotional content in this way maps neatly onto Varela, Thompson and Rosch’s suggestion that cognition is enactive, which means, in the simplest possible terms, there is no division between pre-given external features of the world and internal symbolic representations. 337 Embodied experience of the environment is cognition and knowledge of all manner of phenomena, including abstract concepts, emerges through bodily engagement. Enactive analogies interact with and are related to embodied metaphors, which is what makes them identifiable in ancient texts. They are an extension of Cognitive Metaphor Theory that treats the body as metaphor, the body-as-metaphor as transhistorical, and literature as intercorporeal. 338 As the forthcoming case studies will demonstrate, I treat the body as metaphor, not to treat it as merely a construct, but because the body as a whole is a source and basis for metaphors that structure other (esp. non-physical) concepts. Abstract meaning emerges from a prelinguistic structure which involves the integration of internal and external worlds in the organization of emotional content, the expression of which relies upon 337 Varella, Thompson, and Rosch’s 1991 revised 2016. 338 For full discussion of the body-as-metaphor see Devereaux 2018. 104 the schematic representation of the body as a whole. Varela, Thompson and Rosch’s basic hypothesis, which has otherwise not been seen to have explanatory power in terms of linguistic expression, can be adapted to my explanation of what we see happening in Latin texts – hence my selection of the term enactive. Inner and outer worlds are visibly enmeshed, by way of which emotion emerges through the text. Such “enaction” is necessarily analogical in its expression, which in turn involves the (re)enactment of bodily experience by readers during the comprehension process, hence the full term of enactive analogy. This will be the term for “historeme” viz “prelinguistic historeme” that we will transition to though the following case studies, 339 in which I will argue that the anchoring of social concepts in the body plays an important role in Latin prose texts, particularly those of the early Roman empire. 339 The transition will occur in Chapter Five, after further identification of the prelinguistic historeme in Chapter. Four. 105 Chapter Four Re-remembering History Let the science and research of the historian find the fact and let his imagination and art make clear its significance. ~George Macaulay Trevelyan 340 In this chapter we will consider the effect of the inscrutable relationship between truth and the body that was ushered in with Tiberius’s reign 341 by comparing the legal record of events found in the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre to the telling by Tacitus and considering the role of the body in shaping collective memory. As discussed in Chapter Three, remembering is actually re-remembering, because the reactivation of a memory allows for updated information and is in many ways similar to the formation of a new memory. 342 Contributing to such updates is that individuals may employ their attitudes and beliefs about a topic to reconstruct memories of a relevant event. 343 In the process of reconstructing an event, they may introduce new information and distort old information. That is to say, individuals may not only better remember belief-consistent material, they may also modify the material to make it more consistent with those beliefs. The selection, retention, forgetting and confusion of memory representations are often the result of emotion. 344 Therefore, affective material that is structured by highly memorable bodily schemas should not be dismissed when analyzing ancient texts, a purpose of which is to preserve memory. In the following case study, I focus primarily on Tacitus. Affective mnemonic structures are found in his Annales, which, as I have suggested elsewhere, function as “models for reasoning.” 345 One such affective mnemonic structure occurs in regard to the 340 As quoted by Hadas in the forward of Burckhardt (translation: 1949). 341 Corbeill 2004: 10; 167. 342 Alberini and LeDoux 2013. 343 Read and Rossen 1982. 344 See Bower 1994. 345 See Devereaux 2016. 106 death of Germanicus and the subsequent trial of Piso. I focus on this episode because it provides an opportunity to interrogate the body as a mnemonic element of historical texts, it affords a unique opportunity to compare a legal inscription to the relation of events as told by historians writing during the same period and operating within the same literary circle, 346 and because in Tacitus we find a familiar haptic historeme at work in relation to those holding power. I will retain the term “prelinguistic historeme” in this chapter due to our focus being on bodily engagement with the world as opposed to the externalization of internal experience into the world that characterizes enactive analogies. We will begin by comparing the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre -- in which I have not at this time detected any prelinguistic structures beyond some evidence for avoidance-approach -- to the telling of the same events by Tacitus. I will primarily discuss the differences between the documents in terms of the haptic historeme traced through Polybius and Livy in Chapter Two. To further explore the dynamism of the haptic historeme, I will also revisit a passage about Nero and discuss the rough handling described there as being underwritten by the same schema. To situate the schema in both authorial and readerly contexts, I will briefly turn to Marcel Merleau-Ponty’s discussion of touch as both an objective and subjective experience and look more closely at the concept of aspernatio discussed in Chapter Three. I will conclude by situating the texts discussed within the model set out in the first three chapters, suggesting that haptic historemes ground a form of constitutive rhetoric that is integral to the negotiation of power. 346 Tacitus and Suetonius were both associates of Pliny the Younger. See White 1978 and Edwards 2008. 107 TIBERIUS BEFORE THE SENATE No other figure has more speech given to him by Tacitus than Tiberius. 347 Tacitus almost certainly consulted the Acta Senatus when designing his narratives, 348 so the suggestion that the senatorial speeches of Tiberius, as they appear in Annales I-VI, are largely based on Tiberian originals, and may even on occasion bear distinct traces of their origin, is not unreasonable. 349 However, although when reporting both direct and indirect speech Tacitus generally does diverge from his normal narrative style, 350 and seems to have crafted the speeches of his subjects to reflect their actual style of speaking, 351 he does not yield to the requirements of realism. 352 So, as N.P. Miller observes of analyzing direct speech in Tacitus, one must tread very delicately because dramatic speech used by an historian to aid his interpretation need be written in no style but his own. 353 There is strong indication that it is Tacitus’s voice that comes through most distinctly in his report of Tiberius’s speech before the senate regarding the death of Germanicus, 354 which will be the primary focus of this chapter’s case study. 355 347 See Miller 1968: All that we are told of the rhetorical style of Tiberius suggests a dry, economical style which must have been congenial to Tacitus, and which could have been incorporated into his austere and concentrated Latin. 348 See Syme 1958: 271-286; 1977: 247-251 = 1984: 1028-31; 1982: 76-80 = 1988: 213-220. For dissenting view see Momigliano 1990 who argues that Tacitus may have only used literary sources for the period from Tiberius to Titus. Nevertheless, it is generally agreed that Tacitus used the Acta Senatus extensively in Book 3. See Barnes 1998: 140. 349 Miller 1968. 350 Adams 1973. 351 See Adams 1973: Tacitus’s speeches most obviously differ from the narrative in the profusion of formal rhetorical devices which they contain. Polyptoton, for example (the repetition of a word in a different form), is found mainly in speeches in the Annales. Antitheses in which the two members balance each other in structure, as well as contrasting semantically, are rare in narrative but not unusual in speeches. The same is also true of antitheses in which the words contrasted are alliterative. 352 Adams 1973. 353 Miller 1968. Grethlein 2013: 155-6 argues that ambiguity serves a referential function that reflects the historian’s attempt to render the era of the princeps experientially. 354 Talbert 1999: 93 points to the opening lines of the inscription to suggest that the relatio to which the SCPP responds can only have been formulated after Piso's suicide, “so whatever relatio opened Piso's trial, it cannot have had the identical wording. Presumably, after the suicide that relatio was just abandoned.” Damon 1999 argues against Woodman and Martin 1996 that the oratio found in Tacitus is reflected in the SCPP. Mackay 2003: 315 also argues against Woodman and Martin 1996 that the speech Tiberius actually gave must be the speech that is recorded in Ann. 3.12. I do not find Mackay’s assertion supportable. 355 I first discussed this in my 2016 work in Embodiment in Latin Semantics. On the way that Tacitus sharpens, 108 The differences between Tacitus and the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre (SPCC) are significant. 356 While Tacitus insinuates that Tiberius and Livia (Iulia Augusta) were somehow implicated in the case, having encouraged Piso and Plancina to harass Germanicus and Agrippina, the senate exerts itself to praise the emperor and his mother unreservedly, thus taking an active part in creating the ideology which justified the supremacy of the domus Augusta in Roman society. 357 Another striking difference is the failure of the inscription to mention whether Piso had been charged with Germanicus’s murder. Only a vague allusion to this suspicion is made in the form of a reproach uttered by Germanicus himself, which has led some scholars to hypothesize that the senate felt some compunction about failing to convict him of the crime. 358 As much is said by Tacitus: …senatus numquam satis credito sine fraude Germanicum interisse…. (3.14.3), 359 who, in contrast, frames his account of the whole episode with the murder charge. 360 Possibly motivating Tacitus’s departure from the inscription was the public questioning of political and familial loyalties taking place at the time of events (Ann.3.11). 361 It is for this same reason that the inscription can be read as functioning to reaffirm the ruling and moral integrity of the domus Augusta. 362 All the more so because it reads remarkably unlike a reshapes, and redistributes his sources in order to integrate historical and political analysis into his narration of events see Barnes 1998. N.B. Syme 1958: 144-156, 176-202; Mommsen 1870: 312 = 1909: 240. Both complained that Tacitus’s creativity was more appropriate for a poet than an historian. 356 Published in complementary Spanish and German editions: A. Caballos, W. Eck, F. Fernandez, El senadoconsulto de Gneo Pisón padre (Sevilla, 1996) and W. Eck, A. Caballos, F. Fernandez, Das senatus consultum de Cn. Pisone patre, Vestigia 48 (Munich 1996). For English see Potter and Damon 1999. 357 Cooley 1998. 358 Cooley 1998. Talbert 1999: 96 suggests the murder charge is not more prominent in the SCPP because the SCPP has no direct bearing on the proceedings prior to Piso’s suicide, during which, according to Tacitus (3.14), Piso’s defenders had disposed of the charge. 359 “…the senate could never quite believe that Germanicus had perished without foul play…” 360 See Cooley 1998: This difference may be due to the fact that the charge of murder was dismissed early on in the trial - perhaps the senate did not choose to recall its failure to convict Piso in this decree which was compiled at a later date. 361 3.11: “…the country excitedly wondered how much fidelity would be shown by the friends of Germanicus, on what the accused rested his hopes, and how far Tiberius would repress and hide his feelings. Never were the people more keenly interested; never did they indulge themselves more freely in secret whispers against the emperor or in the silence of suspicion.” 362 Suggestion of this is the zero-sum distribution of honour. While Piso’s eldest son is made to change his praenomen and assure the damnatio memoriae of the elder Piso, Tiberius and his whole family are contrasted to have moderatio, modestia, humanitas, aequitas, patientia, pietas, clementia, iustitia, animi magnitudo, and 109 verdict as understood by the quaestio procedures, 363 and was posted in the most frequented place in the most frequented city of each province, and was also posted next to the standards in the winter-quarters of every legion (lines 170-172). A possible explanation for the numerous differences that exist between the SCPP and Tacitus’s narrative has been proposed by Cynthia Damon, who focuses on Tacitean narrative structure making use of a particular narrative technique called a “mirror story.” Piso's trial in Book 3 contains the second telling of part of a story presented more fully in Book 2, the story of Piso's eastern command and the death of Germanicus. 364 Mirror stories like this are found in all ancient narrative genres and accomplish a variety of narrative tasks. Damon suggests that here the structure conveys the historian’s verdict on the trial by highlighting the narrator’s role in and authority over the narrative. 365 The retelling in Book 3 thus offers a second account to show how events were filtered through the trial to produce an entirely new version of history. 366 liberalitas. Potter 2000 argues that the SCPP, which substitutes domus Augusta where previously we might have expected res publica functions to reshape notions of public and private by presenting the surviving imperial family, including the female members of the household, as a civic institution. It has also been suggested that the decision to publish the decrees was taken up for political reasons more than six months after the end of the trial (on this and the problem of determining the date of the inscription see Barnes 1998; for disagreement about the composite nature of the SCPP see Mackay 2003). Potter 1999: 71 argues that the virtues attributed to Tiberius and the domus Augusta cannot be shown to derive from some pre-set canon, so it follows that they were selected for advertisement because they sent a specific message about what it was that a specific emperor wanted his subjects to think about him. Saddington 2000: 167 notes that one of the purposes of the SCPP was to reassert loyalty to the imperial house. Damon 1999a: 147 is certain that the SCPP does not report the whole truth about events and is no less carefully crafted than Tacitus’s own narrative. Potter 1999: 71-2 attributes this to a concern for making a positive statement of the ideology of the domus Augusta, adding that the laudationes of the imperial family were designed to lend the public support of the senate to the embattled emperor. 363 See Richardson 1997: 516 on the lex maiestatis and the senate being unable to pronounce a juridical verdict, because it had no place as such within the lex. There was nothing to prevent it stating that the praetor should pronounce such a verdict. Richardson argues that the senate is the effective locus of decision about the case under the lex maiestatis but not the formal locus. If this is correct, it provides a mechanism whereby the senate, which was not a juridical body under the republic, came to acquire de facto the power of decision in a number of areas which had previously been the remit of the quaestiones perpetuae. 364 See Damon 1999a. 365 Ibid. 366 Ibid. 110 Following from Damon’s suggestion that the trial acts as a mirror of truth, so to speak, we note that the retelling in Book 3 does not bear the marks of most direct speeches in the Annales: 367 simulque illud reputate, turbide et seditiose tractaverit exercitus Piso, quaesita sint per ambitionem studia militum, armis repetita provincia, an falsa haec in maius vulgaverint accusatores, quorum ego nimiis studiis iure suscenseo. nam quo pertinuit nudare corpus et contrectandum vulgi oculis permittere differrique etiam per externos tamquam veneno interceptus esset, si incerta adhuc ista et scrutanda sunt? (Ann. 3.12) “Consider all of this together: Did Piso violently and forcibly handle the army? Was the devotion of the soldiery sought by currying favor? Was the province recaptured by means of arms? Or was it that his accusers – whose excessive pursuit rightly angers me – promiscuously spread these falsehoods around? Why was the opportunity extended to send the naked body through the crowd to be fondled by their eyes? And why was news carried throughout foreign peoples that he had been snatched away, seemingly by poison, if these things are still uncertain and need to be thoroughly probed?” Commentators have remarked that it is, contrary to other speeches in the Annales, milder in tone than the rest of the narrative, which Damon attributes to Tacitus trying to show his readers that Tiberius was shifting responsibility to Piso alone, in order to implicitly contradict the occultus rumor about his own involvement in events. 368 She suggests that the full and fair investigation Tiberius seems to call for is demonstrated through his language to be neither wanted by him nor possible in a senate that would only follow his lead. 369 Damon makes excellent points, but I think there is even more of interest in Tiberius’s language as given by Tacitus, and that is Tacitus’s manipulation of the conceptual metaphor “understanding is grasping” 370 to provide a structure for reasoning about Tiberius’s involvement in events. 371 367 ibid. 368 See Potter 1999: 71: In a number of places the language of the senate appears to be encoded with responses to public complaints about the conduct of the trial, or problems that arose in its course. Rumor, so Tacitus tells us, had it that Tiberius secretly rejoiced at the death of Germanicus, and that that important information was kept from the senate. Damon 1999a adds that the “defense” that Tacitus had provided for Piso in the narrative -- opposition to Germanicus as a mission from Tiberius -- could not be used at the trial. 369 Damon 1999a. 370 See Short 2012. 371 See Devereaux 2016. 111 The understanding-as-grasping metaphor is a conceptual metaphor that treats the truth as a physical body, 372 and in this case the truth is represented by the corpse of Germanicus, so Roman notions about the human body, its boundaries, perversions, sanctities, and so forth are implicitly involved. 373 With this in mind, one first notices that Tacitus begins to fashion his version of literary truth by evoking the regularly lived experience of being a body in a crowd, both by evoking touch and by appealing to a number of sensory modalities. He does this first by constructing a dense and precise world for the reader. Simul(que) restricts the imperative reputate to a single temporal frame that runs concurrent to the speech of Tiberius for the internal audience, as well as the reader. In tandem, illud construes all of the items that follow (namely the actions of Piso and the current investigation) as a gestalt. In this way – by holding the reader still in time and space in a manner that coincides with the stillness of the reader’s body – Tacitus creates a narrative frame characterized by what could be called a density of time and space. 374 Such density comes to be constructed through lexical contrasts evoking repetition, movement, and quantity (reputate, repetita, in maius vulgaverint, nimiis) as well as alliterative play (reputate … repetita, simul … in maius … nimiis, per(mittere) … per). 375 The 372 See Habinek 2007. Manilius describes the astrologer’s task as “rummaging in the entrails of the universe” (Astronomica 4.908‒12), thereby creating a correspondence between astrologers and priests who inspect the entrails of sacrificial victims not only with their eyes, but also with their hands. nec sola fronte deorum contentus manet, et caelum scrutatur in alvo cognatumque sequens corpus se quaerit in astris. huic in tanta fidem petimus, quam saepe volucres accipiunt trepidaeque suo sub pectore fibrae (“nor does he rest content with the outward appearance of the gods, but rummages in the entrails of the universe and, in his quest of a being akin to his own, seeks himself among the stars”). 373 See e.g.: Langlands 2006: 128: A person calling to court a matrona was not allowed to touch her body, so that her stola would remain untainted by the touch of an unrelated man’s hand. Lennon 2018: 121: Physical contact was a locus of pollution; the touch of slaves was especially problematic. Horace refers to a foreign crowd as being diseased (O.1.37): contaminato cum grege turpium morbo virorum (“with a crowd contaminated with the disease of foul men”). Seneca speaks of vice spreading as though by bodily contact: (Tranq. 7.3): serpunt enim vitia et in proximum quemque transiliunt et contactu nocent (“for vices spread unnoticed and quickly pass to those nearest and harm through contact”), which seems to underpin Hippolytus’s reaction to Phaedra: (Phaed. 704-5): procul impudicos corpore a casto amove tactus (“remove your wanton touch far away from my unpolluted body”). 374 Devereaux 2016. 375 Even though in + accusative expresses the effect intended or resulting (adopted chiefly from Sallust and from Greek usages with εἰς, ἐπί and πρός: see Furneaux 1896: 60, the combination of the primary meanings of the adverb and verb are nevertheless evocative. 112 alliterativeness itself has a sort of compactness; reputate is picked up by repetita, with the vocalism moving from back to front and from rounded to unrounded: simul … in maius … nimis. The global configuration S – M – (L) – N – M – S – N – M – S turns back on itself with the reversal of the consonant order around maius (S – M – N becomes N – M – S). There is also PERmittere, diffeRRi … PER extERnos. The alliteration combined with linguistic and syntactic density materializes the narrative atmosphere into which Tacitus effectively inserts the reader “bodily.” Tacitus uses the play between the singularity of narrative space-time and the plurality of sound and imagined constituents to give this mental “space” a distinct phenomenological character – an experiential feel that cannot easily be reduced to the propositional content of the text. The reader senses a crowded place representative of the senate house where Tiberius is speaking as well as the crowd through which the body of Germanicus was passed – it is an immersive narrative experience – and information pertaining to the death of Germanicus passes through both levels of this imagined reality: pertinuit; permittere; differri. Differri, meaning “carry in different directions,” plays off of the promiscuity connoted by vulgaverint, while the preverb per- of pertinuit and permittere together with use of prepositional per heightens the sense of bodies and bodily movement as the reader mentally simulates extending oneself to move through some sort of crowded mass. The reader is made to feel hyper-aware of their own body by virtue of being subliminally invited to recall the raw experience of being one in a throng of many murmuring bodies. 376 It is in this dense narrative space-time that the reader is engaged with the “understanding is grasping” metaphor when encountering a series of transitive verbs with notably tactile core meanings: tractaverit; vulgaverint; contrectandum; interceptus esset; scrutanda sunt. Tractare literally means “(violently) drag,” vulgare has the primary sense of 376 Devereaux 2016. 113 “spread (through common contact),” contrectare denotes intense fondling, 377 intercipio involves holding fast, scrutari means to “rummage through.” I focus on the primary meanings because metaphorical meanings are not merely understood as a matter of convention, but also in terms of the physical experiences that the primary meanings denote. 378 All together we imagine rough handling, promiscuous contact, movement through a noisy crowd of bodies, fondling, and snatching – a sensory experience that culminates with Tiberius’s intent to probe the body of evidence. It is through an accumulation of embodied experience brought about by the literal meanings of the string of tactile, transitive verbs that the final verb, scrutari, which, despite having an established figurative sense in the mental domain – viz., “(mentally) examine thoroughly” (a conventional metaphor in Latin) 379 – obtains its invasive physical sense here. 380 All of the verbs of dragging, grabbing, touching, and spreading that precede it intensify the embodied sense of scrutanda sunt, and in this way forceful and promiscuous touching, as well as the readers’ feelings about invasive touch, becomes associated with Tiberius’s inquiry into the knowledge of events. By paralleling scrutanda sunt with corpus contrectandum, which Tiberius represents as the mistreatment of Germanicus’s body, Tacitus thus quietly encourages readers, by virtue of the operative “understanding is grasping” metaphor, to view Tiberius’s own involvement in the investigation as “inappropriate touching” that insults the integrity of the Roman body. 381 Through the metanarrative information supplied by the body, Tacitus creates mnemonic density that differentiates this event from ordinary time through a pronouncedly qualitative approach that functions as deixis and thereby attracts the readers’ attention and guides readers’ judgment. In other words, he utilizes a prelinguistic historeme to verify and 377 See the only other use of the term in Ann.14.35: contrectatam filiarum pudicitiam (“the molested honor of her daughters”). 378 See Gibbs 2005; Boroditsky & Prinz 2008. 379 Short 2012. 380 See Habinek 2007. 381 Devereaux 2016. 114 comment upon the mindset of Tiberius in reference to Piso and Plancina’s harassment and the charge of poisoning. The prelinguistic historeme, by providing the narrative with a “kernel of truth,” thus allows “the author underneath” to push to the surface and affect the way the text works. 382 It is therefore my suggestion that by heightening the bodily awareness of the reader by virtue of the “dense” story space, filling the passage with tactile, transitive verbs, and coloring the “understanding is grasping” metaphor with connotations of rough or otherwise offensive handling, Tacitus makes audible what Christopher Pelling calls the author’s “voiceprint.” 383 This “projection of the mind” of the author “attunes the reader to hear and listen in a very particular way,” thereby subtly directing judgement in reference to the occulta mandata given to Piso (see Ann. 2.43; 3.16). 384 I focus on the understanding-is-grasping metaphor in reference to Tiberius’s speech because the speech represents an instance when members of the senate and public alike were struggling to grasp events and outcomes despite the inscrutable relationship between truth and the body that was ushered in with Tiberius’s reign. By composing the speech as he did, Tacitus brings the audience to embody those tasked with discerning the ambiguous nature of Tiberius’s “hold” on power. 385 He uses the body to collapse the internal audience of Tiberius’s speech with the readers of the text. The body creates a point of emergence -- situating the reader at the threshold of undecidability between objective and subjective experience -- placing the historical subject into question by demonstrating that distant readers read with a transhistorical body. I also think, whether consciously or unconsciously, Tacitus demonstrates the metaphorical dimension of something Seneca noted in De ira 2.2 -- we automatically recoil 382 Pelling 2009: 167. 383 Pelling 2009: 148, following Fowler 1996. 384 See 3.11.2: At no other time did a more attentive people give itself greater permission for concealed utterances against the princeps or for suspicious silence. Potter 1999: 72-73: The stress that the senate places on the full access that Tiberius offered to all the relevant information in the case is arguably a response to such discussion, as is the stress on the point that Tiberius made every effort to have Piso's whole case heard even after Piso had killed himself (see SCPP 15-22). 385 See Grethlein 2013. 115 from certain kinds of touch (ad quosdam tactus aspernatio). Seneca was referring to actual touch, presumably not only like that which caused Faunus to retract his hand from Heracles’s lionskin (Fast. 2.341: manum attonitusque metu rediit), but also that which Cicero identified as violating the body of a tribune (Cic. Post Reditum in Senatu 3.7: fortissimi atque optimi tribuni plebis sanctissimum corpus non tactum ac violatum manu sed vulneratum ferro confectumque vidistis), 386 or even, as we find in Seneca, the sort of “touch” that harms the city-state itself (Oed. 77: sperne letali manu contacta regna). 387 Oedipus essentially transfers his sentiment when ordering the plague devastating his city to turn away and stop touching it. But it should be noted as well that just because a touch is harmful, does not mean we do not desire it (Tranq. 2.11-12): ut ulcera quaedam nocituras manus adpetunt et tactu gaudent, et foedam corporum scabiem delectat quicquid exasperat, non aliter dixerim his mentibus, in quas cupiditates velut mala ulcera eruperunt, voluptati esse laborem vexationemque (“just as there are some sores which crave the hands that will hurt them and rejoice to be touched, and as a foul itch of the body delights in whatever scratches, exactly so, I would say, do these minds upon which, so to speak, desires have broken out like wicked sores find pleasure in toil and vexation”). The prototype given by Seneca for this sort of “itchy” mental activity is Achilles mourning the death of Patroclus. The figurative sores caused by regret are made worse through the desire for revenge, which is like an itch that violence scratches. To metaphorically scratch the sore, one literally causes physical harm, which inscribes internal desires onto an external body. This is not unrelated to (e.g.) Tertullian discussing a scaly skin condition suffered by res publica (Pall.5.5.3: Atquin nullis vitiis adulor, nullis veternis parco, nulli impetigini). 388 I might suggest that the “foul itch” discussed by Seneca – which 386 “You saw the sacred body of a most fearless and virtuous officer, a tribune of the people, not only laid hands on and insulted, but wounded with the sword and killed.” 387 “Spurn the realm contaminated by your baleful hand.” 388 “Indeed, I do not flatter any vices, do not spare any old dirt or any scab.” On this see Chapter Three. 116 the hands of desirous people scratch – is the same sort of itch alluded to by Tertullian, who draws on the analogy to encourage his audience to reject the political status quo. 389 Analogies related to touch, because they are bodily, accommodate shifts of perspective. We see this, for example, in Valerius Maximus, who identifies touch not as subject to disapproval, but as a means of showing disapproval (4.3(ext).3a: quam nec tactu nec sermone aspernatus). 390 We can see with these many examples, in accordance with the avoidance-approach schema, touch can be both active and passive, both the cause and effect of aversion. So, when Seneca says we “push certain forms of touch down and away,” he is not referring to scary things and/or contaminating things and/or painful things and/or powerful things per se. According to his 121 st epistle, he is referring to things that are instinctively known to be inutilia (naturales ad utilia impetus, naturales a contrariis aspernationes sunt). 391 One can thus adduce that contact with lions (and by extension those wearing their pelts), plague, violence, and things of which we disapprove – like political positions -- are not beneficial and are thus responded to with aspernatio, which can be responded to in kind – or not – if it scratches the right itch. 392 The implicit “touch” of Tiberius, one thus imagines, is presented as it is by Tacitus to encourage aspernatio on the part of readers who do not favor such “touching.” For those whose itch it scratches, a different response will follow. 389 See discussion in ch. 3. 390 “He spurned her with neither touch nor word.” 391 “There is a natural impulse toward the beneficial, and a natural rejection of the opposite.” 392 See Ep.90. The nominal form is quite limited in use, so this is difficult to assert with certainty. It is, however, clear that Seneca uses aspernatio differently than Cicero, the only other extant author to use the term, who only uses it in reference to “turning away from reason” (4.31: ex aspernatione rationis; 4.59: aspernatio rationis). See Plat.Soph.239d (ἀποστρέψει τοὺς λόγους). Seneca locates innate knowledge of utilia and inutila in all animals, not just humans (Ep.121). However, as demonstrated in chapters 2 and 3, higher-order mental operations are often treated with phenomenological analogies by Roman authors, including and perhaps especially Seneca, so bodily responses can express assessments of utilia, both directly and indirectly. Utilia, then, which refers to a wide range of both concrete things and abstract concepts in his writings, is that which is generally advantageous, specifically, it would seem, that which is underwritten by natural law. 117 The association between aspernatio, defiling touch, illness, and itchy skin conditions present in Roman thought is worth considering for an additional reason. Modern studies on the effects of metaphor and analogy on reasoning find that people are more likely to want to fight back against a crime “beast” by increasing the police force but more likely to want to diagnose and treat a crime “virus” through social reform. 393 To explicate such differences Paul Thibodeau and Lera Boroditsky explain that: …metaphors influence the way that we reason about complex issues and forage for further information about them. We find that even the subtlest instantiation of a metaphor (via a single word) can have a powerful influence over how people attempt to solve social problems like crime and how they gather information to make ‘well-informed’ decisions. Interestingly, we find that the influence of the metaphorical framing effect is covert: people do not recognize metaphors as influential in their decisions; instead they point to more ‘substantive’ (often numerical) information as the motivation for their problem-solving decision. Metaphors in language appear to instantiate frame- consistent knowledge structures and invite structurally consistent inferences. Far from being mere rhetorical flourishes, metaphors have profound influences on how we conceptualize and act with respect to important societal issues. We find that exposure to even a single metaphor can induce substantial differences in opinion about how to solve social problems… 394 Tacitus’s structuring of Tiberius’s speech around a metaphor that treats the “hands” associated with vision and knowledge as defiling the body of Germanicus at the same time as they contaminate the speech of the emperor, corresponds to the response of the senate seen in the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre. The contaminating “touch” of Tiberius was responded to with an attempt at social reform. The senate used the trial as propaganda to rehabilitate the moral image of the royal family and realign paradigms of morality and respect. 393 On analogy see Vosniadou and Ortony 1989. For discussion of analogy as the engine of critical thought in ancient Rome see Moatti 2015. 394 Thibodeau and Boroditsky 2011. See also 2013; 2015. Steen, Reijnierse and Burgers 2014 challenge that more precise boundary conditions under which metaphors do or do not impact reasoning need to be defined. Thibodeau and Boroditsky respond in their 2015 work. 118 NERO IN THE STREETS OF ROME In a passage that differs from the trial episode, in that it does not involve speech acts, rough handling and the knowledge pertaining to it nevertheless underwrite the narrative of events. In Book 13, as previously discussed in Chapter Two, we find Nero marauding through the streets of Rome at a time when the senate was debating revoking the freedom of freedmen who threatened violence against their patrons: Q. Volusio P. Scipione consulibus otium foris, foeda domi lascivia, qua Nero itinera urbis et lupanaria et deverticula veste servili in dissimulationem sui compositus pererrabat, comitantibus qui raperent venditioni exposita et obviis vulnera inferrent, adversus ignaros adeo ut ipse quoque exciperet ictus et ore praeferret. Deinde ubi Caesarem esse qui grassaretur pernotuit augebanturque iniuriae adversus viros feminasque insignis, et quidam permissa semel licentia sub nomine Neronis inulti propriis cum globis eadem exercebant, in modum captivitatis nox agebatur; Iuliusque Montanus senatorii ordinis, sed qui nondum honorem capessisset, congressus forte per tenebras cum principe, quia vi attemptantem acriter reppulerat, deinde adgnitum oraverat, quasi exprobrasset, mori adactus est. (Tac. Ann. 13.25) At the time of the consulate of Quintus Volusius and Publius Scipio there was peace abroad and scandalous excess at home, where Nero dissembled his identity under the guise of a slave and wandered the streets, brothels, and taverns of the city with companions who would snatch things set out for sale and cause injury to those who got in their way. The victims were so unknowing as to who it was that they faced that Nero himself received obvious injury to his face. Then, when it became known that it was the Caesar who was on the prowl, the outrages against affluent men and women increased, and some people, once such behavior was permitted and uncurbed, carried out the same things with their own cliques with impunity under the name of Nero, and the night was spent as if one were held in captivity. Julius Montanus, a member of the senatorial order who had not yet taken office was forced to commit suicide when he by chance met with the princeps in the shadows and, having fiercely repelled the attack before recognizing Nero, begged pardon, which was taken as a reproach. Tacitus uses bodily experience to bring readers into contact with the wayward emperor’s wandering through the streets of Rome. Again, the illusion of presence is achieved through the evocation of a multitude of bodies that in this case “fill” the imagined streets. 395 Mnemonic density is developed through the play of augebantur, a word denoting an increase 395 Kuzmičova 2013: 117 remarks that the narrative world is unlikely to feel tangible and present unless physical stimuli that can be interacted with are mentioned. 119 in mass, with the consistent pluralization of bodies (comitantibus, obviis, ignaros, viros feminasque insignis, globis). The emphasis is again on movement through a crowded space (e.g., pererrabat, grassaretur, permissa, per tenebras), but here time has a dynamic role. The time relevant to the plot, as mapped by the actions and thoughts of the characters, moves along with Nero and those marauding in imitation of him (nox agebatur), while a string of imperfect subjunctives (raperent … inferrent … exciperet … praeferret … grassaretur) imbue the narrative with a sense of interminability that carries over to the actions occurring within it and the sorts of characters carrying them out. Criminal figures (qui raperent) continuously carry out their wicked acts (vulnera inferrent). Even grassari (“to go (about)”), a word that does not strictly denote violence, suggests it here – the violence is in the surprising or unexpected action of a violent emperor. 396 The sense of prolonged captivity at his hands (in modum captivitatis) is made perceptible by way of the illimitable potential contained by these simple grammatical forms, with which Tacitus protracts the obfuscating darkness that he punctuates with physical encounters – ob-viis, ad-versus, ad-eo, and (again) ad-versus. 397 The emphasis on the movement of bodies toward one another helps to create the dense feel of the narrative space in which violence, both explicit and implicit, takes place in the unremitting night, during which the constant oscillation between an aspectual “imperfectivity” and “perfectivity” in time and space parallels the physical violence described in the passage. 398 The persistent undulations of violence are experienced in what Woodman 399 calls a Republican-esque civil war that transforms Rome into an “alien capital” – a pseudo-Alexandria in which Nero and Marc Antony are unflatteringly fused and the 396 Grassari has a violent sense elsewhere in Tacitus. E.g. Hist. 3.39: placuit veneno grassari (“he was pleased to prowl about with poison”); Ann. 4.47: ii dum eminus grassabantur crebra et inulta vulnera fecere (“the bowmen, so long as they hunted at long range, inflicted many wounds with impunity”); Ann. 15.60: ferro grassaretur (“he would prowl with a sword”). 397 Here the “approach” aspect of the schema clearly denotes desire on the part of Nero. 398 Devereaux 2016. 399 Woodman 2012. 120 former “is presented as an aggressor attacking his own city.” 400 It is in this city that the reader becomes immersed “not merely in the horror but also in the bewilderment of the times.” 401 The violent character of the passage demonstrates that unruly rule takes down otherwise orderly men when they are met with it (congressus). 402 As already discussed in Chapter Two, “wandering” metaphorically represents mistakenness in Latin: errare and its derivatives were Latin speakers’ normal way of expressing involuntary “wrongs,” including mental uncertainty, intellectual misapprehensions, moral faults, deception, and even fear or madness. 403 Pererrare thus signals that Nero’s prowling is the result of his inherently corrupt ingenium. The implication is that Nero’s “wandering” – that is, his mistakes of judgment, morality, and so forth – is a means for readers to “experience” the character of the ruler. The extended embodied metaphor thus associates ruler -- and perhaps therefore autocratic rule in general -- with the bodily experiences both described and embedded in the passage. This suggests that rather than indulging in a lengthy denunciation of Nero’s conduct, Tacitus allows moralism to emerge from the tacit metaphor and the tactile, embodied experience that the carefully worded description of events produces. 404 After all, it is not difficult to imagine spurning a touch that causes bodily injury, such as that perpetrated by Nero and his coterie. By extension, it is also not difficult to imagine this natural impulse underwriting the negative assessment of Nero that Tacitus encourages, particularly since Tacitus elsewhere describes the expulsion of a ruler deemed foreign at Ann.2.1 with regem externum aspernabantur. 405 400 Keitel 1984: 307–9. 401 Pelling 2009: 164. 402 As already discussed in Chapter Two, in Annales 3.55, Tacitus points out that under the principate the moral behavior of the upper classes followed the example of the princeps. 403 See Short 2013a. 404 Devereaux 2016. 405 This would seem to alternatively represent the same idea behind Cicero’s (Cic.Caec.49-50) identification of the most literal (and therefore physical) interpretation of deicio as that which occurs when one has been forcefully (tactus; attingitur; vi manu) removed from a higher place to a lower one (deiectus vero qui in inferiorem locum de superiore motus). 121 Thus, just as the “touch” of plague on a city and the rough handling of a tribune are “touches” to be rejected, so too is the “touch” of Tiberius and the character of Nero. It is no wonder, then, that Seutonius directly attributes Nero’s behavior to a fault in his nature (dubium nemini foret naturae illa vitia), 406 which highlights the effectiveness of prelinguistic historemes in shaping the way history is remembered. ASPERNOR AND THE (RE)NEGOTIATION OF POWER The touches of Nero and Tiberius are crafted through the composition of narrative around a prelinguistic historeme notably used by Livy when discussing Hannibal’s attempt to secure his grip on the Republic. I focus on this haptic prelinguistic historeme in Tacitus because the rejection of political and military power is tightly associated with aspernatio by him (though he consistently uses the more common verb, aspernor). Of the 26 times aspernor appears in the Annales, seven are related to the rejection of political power: 407 1.13 Lepidus refuses to hold the power of the principate 2.1 The Parthians reject the sovereign power assigned to them by Rome 4.38 Tiberius rejects the power associated with divine honors 4.46 The Thracians refuse to devote themselves to Roman service 4.57 Tiberius rejects the powerful influence of his mother 13.54 The Frisians reject Roman authority 13.56 The Germans reject Roman authority Three are related to the defiance of soldiers in the military: 408 1.16 Soldiers refuse their duties 1.23 Infighting legions reject entreaties for peace 1.42 Germanicus speaks of the defiance of soldiers in hypothetical terms Three are related to military decisions: 409 3.21 The Numidians reject siege-tactics 11.10 The Parthians reject carrying out a distant military campaign 12.17 The Romans refuse ceasefire terms and destroy the city of Uspe 406 Suet. Nero 26.1. 407 In the Histories see 2.36 & 3.58; In Livy AUC see 1.17; 2.41; 27.19; 27.34; 31.27; 32.38 408 In the Histories see 1.5, 1.31, 4.26; In Livy AUC see 25.46 409 In the Histories see 2.52, 3.40, 3.80, 1.89; In Livy AUC see 1.22; 4.45; 9.41; 29.34 122 Four have to do with the rejection of will: 410 1.40 Agrippina rejects being put to flight with the infant Caligula 3.70 A jurist rejects Tiberius’s unwillingness to pursue a charge of treason 4.30 Tiberius rejects the enforcement of harsh punishment 14.42 The Roman people reject the enforcement of harsh punishment against slaves Eight have to do with the rejection of influence: 411 1.27 The complaints of soldiers are rejected 2.28 Tiberius (does not) reject information 3.41 Tiberius rejects information given to him 13.2 Nero has the potential to reject the influence of virtue 14.53 Nero rejects Seneca’s influence 14.58 Antistius urges Plautus not to reject assistance 15.27 Corbulo does not reject messages from envoys 16.11 The father of Plautus’s wife rejects her advice It is clear in the Annales that aspernor is an action deeply tied to structures of power and their negotiation. Tacitus is not unique in this association. Seneca revealed the same connection when he used aspernor in conjunction with a military metaphor: “a perfect man…believes he is a citizen and a soldier of the universe (civem esse se universi et militem credens), accepting his tasks as if they were his orders. Whatever happens he does not spurn it (non aspernatus est)…he accepts it as if it were assigned to him by duty” (Ep.120.12). The opposite of aspernatio is to accept authority and behave as an orderly soldier. Only employing the concept four times in his extant writings, 412 Seneca here identifies aspernatio as being associated with “touch” that does not foster actionum concordia, which is a phrase I would suggest can be conceptually paired with motus animorum. Understanding aspernatio as carrying notions of power and obedience helps us to classify the two outstanding occurrences of the term in the Annales. The first is the only 410 In the Histories see 1.45, 3.34, 4.65 411 In the Histories see 3.31; In Livy AUC see 1.23, 2.48; 6.4; 7.3; 8.2 N.B. Suetonius’s use of aspernor is more mundane (e.g. rejection of food, sex, etc.), but is connected to strong emotion in most cases. 412 De ira 4.2; Ep.120.12; Ep.121.21. Even in his use of the term in relation to death (Ep.82.15: aspernatio dissolutionis) it can be read as engagement with a power structure – in this case one governed by the laws of physics. 123 occurrence seemingly relating aspernatio to concrete sensory information (13.16). It occurs when Tacitus tells of the death of Britannicus, who is believed to have been poisoned at the behest of Nero. 413 The lad is said to have rejected a drink because it was too hot (fervore aspernabatur), which led to cool water containing poison being added to it. The story focuses less on the demise of the young man than it does on the renegotiation of the power structure that resulted from Nero’s hand in events. In a single grab for power, Nero both eradicated the last scion of the Claudian house and set a precedent for matricide (parricidii exemplum). Accordingly, then, Tacitus writes (13.17): festinationem exsequiarum edicto Caesar defendit, ita maioribus institutum referens, subtrahere oculis acerba funera neque laudationibus aut pompa detinere (“The hastiness of the funeral was vindicated in an edict of the Caesar, who called to mind that “it was a national tradition to withdraw these untimely obsequies from the public gaze and not to detain it by panegyrics and processions”). 414 I say “accordingly” because his narrative composition aligns with the avoidance-approach and spatial affect paradigms discussed in Chapter Two -- movement away and down is built into a series of compound verbs (defendit, subtrahere, detinere) which feature tactile roots associated with rough handling and holding fast. Again, the historian expresses moral sentiment through the diffusion of bodily experience through the text. It is thus my suggestion that many similar negotiations to those represented in the above examples structure expressions related to the concept of “holding” power or influence. In other words, the understanding-is-grasping metaphor regularly underpins narratives of power negotiation which, by the very nature of 413 See Horstmanshoff 1999: The crime was on the instigation of Nero, and it was perpetrated by Pollio Iulius, tribune of the praetorian cohorts, and the poisoner Locusta. Lacusta received a handsome reward and remained in Nero's service throughout his principate. She was even given the opportunity to train pupils (Suetonius, Nero 33.3). It was the same Locusta who supplied the poison that Nero took with him when he desperately fled from Rome in 68 (Suet. Ner. 47.1-3). 414 See Horstmanshoff 1999: Dio Cassius records the communis opinio on the motive for the hasty funeral: fear of discovery of the traces of poisoning. It would be anachronistic to think in terms of a forensic autopsy, but it was commonly accepted opinion that lead colouring and dark patches on the skin of a corpse were indications that it had been the victim of poisoning (Galen, De locis affectis 6.5, 8.422-423), even though modern science does not support the drawing of such a conclusion from these symptoms. 124 such negotiations, have the potential to prompt aspernatio – a mental state expressed through the physical experience of pushing away and down. Grasping, manhandling, and pushing are the bodily experiences that supply the prelinguistic architecture of narratives concerned with power and its ongoing negotiation. The negotiation of power, and the role of aspernatio in it, is also an acknowledged element of the historical process. The final appearance of aspernor in the Annales appears near the close of the work (16.16). In his own voice Tacitus says: Etiam si bella externa et obitas pro re publica mortis tanta casuum similitudine memorarem, meque ipsum satias cepisset aliorumque taedium expectarem, quamvis honestos civium exitus, tristis tamen et continuos aspernantium: at nunc patientia servilis tantumque sanguinis domi perditum fatigant animum et maestitia restringunt. Even had I been narrating campaigns abroad and lives laid down for the commonwealth, and narrating them with the same uniformity of incident, I should myself have lost appetite for the task, and I should expect the tedium of others, repelled by the tale of Roman deaths, honorable perhaps, but tragic and continuous. As it is, this slave-like patience and the profusion of blood wasted at home weary the mind and oppress it with melancholy. 415 Here, Tacitus directly acknowledges that readers experience aspernatio, which is given a moral color. He is subject to the moral impulse of the reader, and readers have a certain stake in the negotiation of political power and its account in the annals of history. Through his word choice, Tacitus reveals his own task as a historiographer to be one that involves touch and therefore a certain kind of power. 416 The writing of history as a tactile (re)negotiation of power in the realm of the Roman elite was revealed already by Sallust in his Bellum Catalinae, wherein the perspective of 415 Translated by Jackson 2006. 416 Also of note is the haptic metaphor restringunt animum. See strigor (“one who holds”) in de Vaan 2008: 592. Lewis and Short identify stringo as being synonymous with tango in many cases “Transf. (through the intermediate idea of drawing close), to touch, touch upon, touch lightly or slightly, to graze (syn. tango).” http: //www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/morph?l=stringere&la=la#lexicon 125 touch is reversed, and the historian spurns the touch of political influence, attempting to rehabilitate his disgraced public career and regain influence: Sed ego adulescentulus initio, sicuti plerique, studio ad rem publicam latus sum ibique mihi multa advorsa fuere. Nam pro pudore, pro abstinentia, pro virtute audacia, largitio, avaritia vigebant. Quae tametsi animus aspernabatur insolens malarum artium, tamen inter tanta vitia imbecilla aetas ambitione corrupta tenebatur; ac me, cum ab reliquorum malis moribus dissentirem, nihilo minus honoris cupido eadem, qua ceteros, fama atque invidia vexabat. (Sal. Cat. 3) I myself, however, when a young man, was at first led by inclination, like most others, to engage in political affairs; but in that pursuit many circumstances were unfavorable to me; for, instead of modesty, temperance, and integrity, there prevailed shamelessness, corruption, and rapacity. And although my mind, inexperienced in dishonest practices, detested these vices, yet, in the midst of so great corruption, my tender age was ensnared and infected by ambition; and, though I shrunk from the vicious principles of those around me, yet the same eagerness for honors, the same obloquy and jealousy, which disquieted others, disquieted myself. 417 He describes his political experience (which had its fair share of disgrace) in terms of being held and shaken violently (tenebatur…vexabat). By taking this perspective on touch he emphasizes both its active and passive qualities (being held in this way results in holding power in a similar way) while engaging in the same paradigmatic bodily schemas as Livy and Tacitus. He does this not only to exculpate himself, but also to illuminate the (re)negotiation of influence among historiographers themselves. 418 Again, the body supplies the feel for this game. Whether illuminating the relationship between Hannibal’s failed grip and the molesting touch of Tiberius, or between the rough and interminable grip of Nero and Sallust being held in the grip of a corrupt system, the same prelinguistic historeme governs the prose of the three historians, all of whom are seeking influence in their own field of action, in 417 Translation by Wallace 1899: http: //www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus: text: 1999.02.0124. 418 Sallust claims to reject this “touch” (animus aspernabatur), which is later applied to wealth by Cataline (20: pecuniam trahunt, vexant…). The reader is encouraged to conflate political actors with material wealth, an apparent note on commodification, which Sallust highlights by interrogating his audience as to whether or not they intend to be slaves or masters (vos servire magis quam imperare parati estis?). This type of dialogue demonstrates how historians, like Tacitus, can use the body and its tactile experiences to transform material events into historical narrative. 126 which they spurn and are spurned through an artful (re)negotiation of power that occurs with each reading of the text. THRESHOLDS OF EXPERIENCE It has been my suggestion that we should examine touch and phenomenological experiences not only in terms of the propositional statements made about them, but also in terms of how such experiences are woven into the fabric of the texts. In so doing, we are able to see the body organizing knowledge about people, events and socio-political concepts in various ways. Touch, I have argued, is particularly involved in the (re)negotiation of power and influence in especially political, military, and authorial contexts. In such contexts, historians repeatedly use the same prelinguistic historeme to create a point of emergence at the threshold of undecidability between objective and subjective experience. This notion of reversibility, as an element of ancient texts, is of course something we can talk about in terms of Marcel Merleau-Ponty’s hands, which he uses to explain “chiasm,” the bi-directional exchange and kinship between the sensing body and sensed things which subsists in “the flesh” and makes communication possible. 419 Merleau-Ponty suggested that the experience of touching cannot be understood without reference to the tacit potential for the situation to be reversed, and that the body's capacity to occupy the position of both perceiving subject and object of perception -- if not at once, then in constant oscillation -- demonstrates the “reversibility” of the body and its capacity to be both sentient and sensible. 420 He argues that there is a certain intelligence of the body – alive and mobile -- that enables it to innovate and 419 See Toadvine 2018: https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/merleau-ponty/: The generality of flesh embraces an intercorporeity, an anonymous sensibility shared out among distinct bodies: just as my two hands communicate across the lateral synergy of my body, I can touch the sensibility of another: “The handshake too is reversible” (Merleau-Ponty 1964 as translated by Lingis 1969: 142; 187). “Kinship,” I think, can be thought of as “mind- body analogy.” 420 Merleau-Ponty 2012: 93 uses example of hands touching each other. 127 retain new meaning through a kind of reversible reflection that enables it to transpose a given situation through movement, shifting from passive experience to active experience. 421 I introduce Merleau-Ponty here in order to make a bit more sense of Fineman’s suggestion that historemes, through their phenomenological quality, create “a space for history to happen.” This “space” is not unlike Merleau-Ponty’s écart (gap) which exists between ourselves as touching and ourselves as being touched, a divergence between the sentient and sensible aspects of our existence. In this gap – at the threshold of undecidability between objective and subjective experience -- the internal audiences to Tiberius’s speech and Nero’s violence collapse with the reader of the text. Upon being “touched” in this way, readers reflect their experience back onto the text through the acceptance or rejection of such “contact.” This process is encapsulated by Merleau-Ponty’s “chiasm,” a concept with which he illustrates that our embodied subjectivity is neither located purely in our touching or in our being touched, but in the intertwining of these two aspects in “the flesh.” Sensible flesh— what Merleau-Ponty calls “the visible”—is not all there is to flesh, since flesh also sublimates itself into an invisible dimension: the “rarefied” or “glorified” flesh of ideas. He describes literature, music, and the passions as “the exploration of an invisible and the disclosure of a universe of ideas” that rely on embodiment for their meaning. 422 That is to say, the invisible world of ideas depends upon the experientiality of the flesh not only for their expression but also their meaning. I think this is a useful way to think about the effects of the language upon readers as discussed herein, because it harmonizes with Fineman, who argued that the phenomenological quality of the historeme renders the text forever open. Touch is reversible, and that reversibility creates a permanent écart wherein history can happen in “the flesh.” To be “touched” by literature in this way is to be pulled to the threshold of undecidability 421 Ibid. 422 See Toadvine 2018: https: //plato.stanford.edu/entries/merleau-ponty/; Merleau-Ponty 1964 as translated by Lingis 1969: 196. 128 between objective and subjective experience -- where historians like Tacitus, by creating this point of emergence, put the historical subject into question, defining the epistemological paradigm of historical research itself as well as the status of the knowing subject. 423 That is to say, by virtue of the transhistorical body, a certain version of the past emerges that, through the act of interpretation, intertwines readers with the characters and events relayed by the historian, who is himself embedded in the flesh of the narrative. We cannot be wholly distant from the histories we read. CONSTITUTIVE RHETORIC Roman sociopolitical thought and historiographical practice, the underpinnings of which are grounded in bodily experience, are concerned with moral inculcation, which was generally pursued through exempla. Prelinguistic historemes, as we have begun to see above, have a role to play in moral inculcation. The (re)performance of mundane bodily experiences generates the “kernel of truth” that allows moral sentiment to coalesce around it. Bodily experience -- even and perhaps especially that which is expressed through elements of speech we do not automatically expect to participate in bodily meaning-making – provides the affective scaffolding necessary for the mutual resonance of bodies to occur across texts and contexts. “Touch” is simulated by prelinguistic historemes, which, to put it in Roman terms, create the possibility of motus animorum by arousing principia proludentia adfectibus – the embodied origins of affectivity. To put this in modern terms, it enables group sentiment to emerge by exploiting neural reuse, which is an act of re-remembering bodily experience as social knowledge that is constantly updated as it is re-remembered. This process of re- 423 See Agamben 2009: “The point of emergence is here, thus, both objective and subjective and situates itself at the threshold of undecidability between object and subject. No fact emerges without giving rise, at once, to the emerging of the knowing subject itself: the operation on the origin is, at the same time, an operation on the subject.” 129 remembering is essential to the never-ending processes of simulation and assimilation that maintains any emotional regime. If the body is in fact a “living memory pad” for our most precious values, then acts of assimilation represented by the prelinguistic historeme found in Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus, simulate bodily knowledge to encourage readers to re-remember social knowledge. A necessary underpinning of any stable political regime, prelinguistic historemes can be thought of as a form of “the rhetoric of socialization,” generating the conditions necessary for collective identities to emerge through what Bourdieu called “the most insignificant techniques of the body.” 424 Perhaps this is a reason why Tacitus has always elicited a strong reaction from readers. 425 The resonance of the transhistorical body across contexts need not be harmonious, but the resonance itself imparts the sociomoral component necessary to emotional engagement with historical narratives. Enthymematic and nevertheless epistemological, the haptic historeme found in the historians above demonstrates that the history of emotion is inscribed onto the history of events by the body, which enables that history to emerge from “the gap” (cf. écart) and reinscribe itself onto myriad authorial and readerly contexts. This summarizes, I think, what Bourdieu said about le sens du jeu, namely that it governs rule-bound contexts and activities which obey certain regularities. 426 The negotiation of political power and influence is a field of action that is regulated, and one regularity is that we spurn certain forms of touch by pushing away and down. Just as the avoidance-approach schema underpins narratives of love and sexual attraction, so too it structures notions of power and influence in socio-political as 424 Bourdieu 1984: 466 as cited in Lizardo 2004: 392. 425 E.g.: Richard Greneway 1598 concluded that “In judgement there is none sounder, for instruction of life, for al times.” Voltaire referred to him as “a fanatic scintillating with wit, a carrion crow of literature,” praising the energetic quality of his prose. Eduard Wölfflin 1867 followed Pliny the Younger in characterizing his writing as “solemn” (σεμνός), full of novelty, color, and dignity. Finding Tacitus deeply pessimistic, Bessie Walker 1952 wrestled with what she considered a “discrepancy of fact and impression” in his narrative, whereas Stephen Oakley 2009 finds his passionate and judgmental style a reflection of his difficult subject matter. 426 See Bourdieu 1990: 64. 130 well as authorial contexts. The field Tiberius was operating within, the field Tacitus was operating within, the field within which the reader is operating: all are regulated by the same body – the transhistorical body -- which is subject to the particular rules of a given context. 427 The same bodily resonances led Napoleon in one context to brand Tacitus as “a traducer of humanity,” and Ronald Mellor in another context to describe him as a compelling painter of psychological portraits of tyranny. 428 So, if pre-linguistic historemes are enthymematic and can be understood to ground or justify our assent to propositions involving them, and if they can engage a collective moral identity that can arise spontaneously, intuitively, and even unconsciously, then must we not acknowledge the regularities maintained by the transhistorical body and the role it plays in the transcendence of the social/individual dichotomy through language? To put it in terms of Merleau-Ponty – we are compelled to acknowledge that we are both touching and being touched when we analyze ancient texts, and so we are never truly alone in our work. CONCLUSION By tracing prelinguistic historemes in Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus, we can see the important role of intercorporeal information to the creation of the common-sense, shared meanings used as an everyday resource to interpret elements of social and cultural life. 429 Haptic knowledge is used to scaffold social knowledge about political power negotiated in part through acts of rejection that are grounded in bodily action (aspernor). The prelinguistic historeme, like the historeme defined by Fineman, depends upon probability and plausibility for its utility. It is the probability and plausibility of bodily experience that enables processes of diffusion and modification to creatively structure narratives. The phenomenological character of prelinguistic historemes renders them accessible -- and therefore repeatable and memorable – 427 i.e. The normative emotions and the official rituals, practices, and emotives that express and inculcate them. 428 Mellor 2010. 429 See ch. 1. Definition as provided by Arolker and Seale in Seale 2012: 574. 131 which, not unlike Hayden White’s metahistory, allows them to (re)create history through a particular type of emphasis that emerges through the text by way of the semantic body. 430 The prelinguistic historeme as metahistorical content does seem to offer some insight into the similarities and differences we see between Tacitus’s telling of events surrounding the death of Germanicus and Piso’s trial and those found in the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre. Structured by a self-reflexive network of norms and values communicated through belief-consistent material, the prelinguistic historeme allows for the modification of historical material to make it more consistent with those beliefs. Tacitus structured the speech of Tiberius around a haptic metaphor that conforms to the numerous statements he makes about the suspicions harboured against Tiberius. That prelinguistic structure reveals a way the material was shaped to be belief consistent. 431 In fact, the version in Suetonius, which also does not reflect the SCPP and definitely falls into step with Tacitus, may have been influenced by the sentimental structure of the Tacitean narrative, 432 which utilizes the rhetoric of socialization to counter the ambiguity that characterized events. 433 Attention to prelinguistic historemes also shows how Livy (re)wrote history by creatively structuring his narrative around Polybius’s δυσχερής. 434 In this example we can see bodily experience seemingly used to make material more belief consistent – Rome is up for 430 White 1975. See ch.3. 431 See statements made at (e.g.) Ann.3.24.1-2; 3.16.1; 3.17.1-2. 432 “It was believed that he took care to have him dispatched by Cnaeus Piso, his lieutenant in Syria. This person was afterwards tried for the murder, and would, as was supposed, have produced his orders, had they not been contained in a private and confidential dispatch … (lacuna in manuscript) … the following words therefore were posted up in many places, and frequently shouted in the night: ‘Give us back our Germanicus.’ This suspicion was afterwards confirmed by the harsh treatment of his wife and children.” (Suet.Tib.52) 433 See Ann. 3.19: adeo maxima quaeque ambigua sunt (“so true it is that the great event is an obscure event”). Grethlein 2013, who does not see the structure of Tiberius’s speech as a social or moral response, attributes the apparent departure from Tacitus’s expressed sentiments to mimetic ambiguity – the recreation of the confusion of the actual participants and the demonstration of the uncertainty of the future through the recreation of the uncertainty of the past. See esp. p.154: “ambiguity, reports of rumour, source quotation and alternative versions serve a mimetic effect. Tacitus confronts his readers with the same uncertainty about Germanicus’s death as contemporaries slyly feeding suspicions, without vouching for them. Instead of interrupting the mimesis, uncertainty heightens the experiential spell of the narrative.” Prelinguistic historemes add dimension to this idea, because they reveal how narrative can in fact help readers to understand more despite knowing less. This will be returned to in the final chapter. 434 Which may reflect a common source. See ch. 3. 132 grabs and difficult to grasp. It is a shared conceptualization of haptic experience in relation to power that enables Livy to make clear the relevance of the narrative to his own context. The Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre seeks social reform by rehabilitating the image of the princeps and the domus Augusta, 435 while Tacitus re-remembers events with a modified version of the prelinguistic historeme associated with Hannibal by Livy. The structuring by haptic metaphors of these otherwise disparate narratives demonstrates the mobility, memorability, modifiability and adaptability of prelinguistic historemes across texts and contexts. Through this demonstration we also come to see that the history of emotion, just like history itself, is comprised of ongoing collective performances. Consequently, reason and sentiment cannot be posited as contradictory polarities in either ancient or modern cultural contexts. Metahistory, as represented by prelinguistic historemes, is the fusion of reason and sentiment. Recall again Morbodius and the recollection of Vergil’s snake as Woodman’s example of metahistory. 436 The intertext fuses human and animal into an historical concept. Snakes are, after all, said to trigger the same sort of principia proludentia adfectibus that Seneca associates with literature, 437 so Woodman is probably correct in his identification of this as metahistorical narrative in more ways than one. The prelinguistic historeme operates similarly. In the above examples, the body, by way of haptic experience and the downward and away movement associated with responses to it, re-remembers Hannibal, Tiberius and Nero, and even Sallust -- not as figures but as an experience. This experiential, metahistorical aspect of historiographical narrative allows us to appreciate audiences not so much in terms of identities, but as simultaneously active and passive, historically contingent processes. 435 There are arguably traces of the avoidance-approach paradigm in the SCPP, but no immediately discernible metaphorical structure such as we find in the historians. 436 See ch.3. 437 See Müller 2014: 75n36: propatheiai are mostly basic physical reactions (like being startled by the sudden hissing of a snake). 133 Hermeneutics reminds us that there is no definitive narrative of the past, that different angles are possible, and that the further processing of time will continue to open new ones. 438 The prelinguistic historeme explains, at least to some extent, the cognitive mechanism by which different “angles,” that is, perspectives on motion and bodily experience, can be supported not only by the same emotional regime, but also by those which are historically contingent. What we make of history and, more importantly, how we remake history, is influenced by bodily knowledge that “allows what belongs together in truth to gradually grow together, and related entities to shake hands and bridge the gap of time, even if they are widely separated and without an otherwise accessible link between them.” 439 Ancient historians thus demonstrate bodily knowledge as a source and organizing principle of metahistorical information. 438 See Grethlein 2013: 5n18. 439 Grethlein 2013: 3 quoting von Doderer 1956. 134 Chapter Five Comprehending Seneca’s De Ira Comprehensibility is the highest law of all. Unity must be there. There must be means of ensuring it. All the things familiar to us from primitive life must also be used in works of art. ~Anton Webern 440 In this chapter I will suggest that enactive analogies are important to our understanding of Seneca’s De ira as a Stoic text with a particular brand of auctoritas – the power to bring community into being. 441 To demonstrate this, I will address the Stoic belief that vision is essential to grasping knowledge and the challenge this poses to understanding and assenting to emotion, which, aside from its physiological marks, is invisible. I will show how Seneca responds to this challenge by embedding an image of the natural world, grounded in the physiological experience of emotion, in the opening to his De ira, exhibiting a compositional style similar to that of the historians, yet utterly unique. It will be my contention that through this compositional style Seneca maps the body onto features of the external environment that have deep cultural associations, making otherwise unobservable phenomena available to perception, assent, and ethical evaluation. Seneca writes for his “fellow travellers” with a certain degree of informality, 442 engaging with substance rather than words, 443 a style that is inseparable from the practical nature of Seneca’s philosophical teachings. 444 His quick paced concision and looseness of form and argument was written for the mind more so than the ear, 445 though he frequently employed poetic quotation and diction, 446 because “even the worst scoundrels applaud moral 440 In Lippman 1990:120. 441 See Sciarrino 2011: 15: auctoritas is “a power that brings things into being by its exercise”; “power emanates from the individual but is also granted to that individual by his followers.” 442 Williams 2015: 135. 443 Williams 2015: 136. 444 Ibid. 445 Seneca defended his teacher Fabinius with these words (see Williams 2015: 141). 446 Williams 2015: 148. 135 pronouncements.” 447 Seneca incorporated prose sayings (sententiae) for the same reason. 448 Skilled in rhetoric, his writing also displays lively shifts of pace, tenor, angle and approach, 449 as well as an abundance of metaphors that render his subject matter visible. 450 It was through metaphorical images that he articulated the philosopher’s internal life. 451 While the images Seneca draws upon have a traditional character, 452 Seneca’s creative personality shows up in the way he organizes them into veritable symbolic networks that tie together abstract philosophical concepts. 453 Whether the metaphors clashed with traditional Stoic doctrine or not, they were useful to Seneca because the more familiar the comparand is to the reader, the more intuitive the grasp on metaphors that are often difficult to detect. 454 Together with this is the “engaging inconsistency” of Seneca’s prose. 455 The features he criticizes in the writings of others are frequently found in his own (e.g. epigrammatic brevity), which Gareth Williams attributes to the Senecan practice of self-scrutiny. 456 Senecan prose, then, uses the powers of imagination and verbal improvization to idiosyncratically perform self-reflexive philosophy. 457 This chapter is accordingly interested in the intersection of difficult to detect metaphors and the idiosyncratic performance of knowledge. In particular, it is interested in the role of the avoidance-approach schema in structuring performances within Seneca’s De ira. I will suggest that there are at least some performances that rely upon enactive analogies for the presentation of otherwise invisible psychological realities. As detailed in the first half of this thesis, enactive analogies are idiosyncratically structured around deeply embedded 447 Asmis 2015: 234. 448 Ibid. 449 Williams 2015: 143. 450 Armison-Marchetti 2015: 156. 451 Williams 2015: 145. 452 Armison-Marchetti 2015: 152. 453 Ibid. 454 Ibid. 455 Williams 2015: 148. 456 Williams 2015: 142. 457 Williams 2015: 148. 136 cognitive metaphors, so this claim is, I think, both intuitive and supported by traditional observations made about Senecan style. I will begin the following discussion by situating Seneca within his Stoic context, detailing the role of the avoidance-approach schema in Stoic beliefs about emotion and sentiment, as well as the pedal and especially haptic metaphors used to describe assent. I focus on assent because it is perhaps one of the least ambiguous approach-oriented concepts in the ancient world. I will then turn to De ira and Quintilian’s criticism of Seneca’s style in order to consider what relationship a specific point of Quintilian’s criticism might have to De ira, which I argue employs a particular kind of “fragmented” compositional style as part of a protreptic appeal grounded in bodily experience. I will examine this style to reconsider the “kernels of truth” that prelinguistic historemes supply in historiography as epistemological elements of philosophical discourse, demonstrating that inner and outer worlds become visibly enmeshed in order to allow the bodily experience of emotion to emerge through the text, which helps readers to better understand the nature of assent in Seneca’s treatise. Further honing the term enactive analogies, I will conclude by discussing Seneca’s compositional practice as a way of generating an emotional geography 458 that is deeply implicated in forging a shared quest for truth, between Seneca and his readers, about natural as well as social phenomena. 459 STOIC (ESP. SENECAN) EMOTION The avoidance-approach schema is central to the Stoic understanding of emotion. We see this in early fragments on the physiological definitions of the emotions. These fragments give some indication of how the early Stoics conceived of emotions propelling people into action: 458 See Davidson and Parr 2014:121. 459 In taking the position that texts are inherently spatial and emotional, I point to Jones 2017: 205, who takes the position that emotion enframes the rational and not vice versa. 137 fear is said to be a “shrinking” or avoidance of an expected danger, desire a “stretching” or pursuit of an expected good. 460 In Seneca’s treatise on anger, we see further that fear and desire are not just two fundamental emotions structured around “shrinking away from” and “stretching toward” objects deemed good or bad, as there are also accompanying thoughts which mirror this physiological movement, like “get it” or “avoid it,” 461 so the bodily activity that follows from such thoughts reflects a value judgment. 462 Such judgments revolve around a moral sensibility that is inborn in every human being (boni sensus) which consists of a natural desire for good and a natural aversion of evil. 463 According to Seneca, every living creature has inner cognition grounded in an affinity for self and aversion for their own destruction, plus, humans have an additional awareness of the power of reason – even before it is ever used -- and this is the most basic level of self-awareness that underlies the rest: 464 we approach what we judge to be beneficial and we avoid what we judge to be the opposite. The movements away and toward which figure prominently in Stoic discussions of emotion are thus mental movements grounded in the bodily movements they produce. 465 We see this, for example, in Stobaeus’s account of emotion as a movement of thought toward something in the sphere of action. 466 The activity that emerges from emotion plays a role in defining it: an emotion is characterized by the kind of activity that goes along with it. 467 In Ep. 113.18, 460 Vogt 2006:68); See Graver 2007: 30-31 re. Tusc.4.15: This notion is not purely Stoic. Aristotle uses ὄρεξις and ἔκκλισις of pursuit and avoidance generally, which corresponds to Cicero’s referring to fear as a sort of withdrawing, desire as a sort of reaching. Avoidance is highlighted in a fragment of Epictetus that says the mind of the wise person is contracted when recognizing certain kinds of objects (See Graver 2007: 99-100), as well as by the already referenced note of Seneca (see ch.4 re. De ira 2.2), who observes that we recoil from certain kinds of touch (aspernor). 461 Vogt 2006: 73. 462 See DL 7.111 in Graver 2007: 39: The Stoics think that the pathē are judgments, as Chrysippus says in his work On Emotions…; See also Graver 2007: 62 re. Zeno in Cic. Acad.1.38: Whereas the ancients held that these emotions are natural and devoid of reason and placed desire in one part of the mind, reason in another, Zeno…did not agree; the thought that the emotions are volitional and are experienced through a judgment of opinion. 463 Asmis 2015: 234 re. Ep. 108.8; De vita beat. 1.1. 464 Asmis 2015: 234. 465 Which, however, may be obstructed or delayed. See Vogt 2006: 58. 466 Stob. 2.86.17–87.6 = SVF 3.169, part = LS 53Q. See also Stob. 2.88.8. 467 Vogt 2006: 58-59. 138 Seneca explains the emotional impulses discussed by Stobaeus by explaining that the action of walking is set off through “saying to oneself” and approving of one’s opinion that one should walk. 468 To walk toward something is to assent to the emotion and thoughts which cause such locomotion. Thoughts precede belief, which precedes action revelatory of beliefs and thereby thoughts. For Seneca and the Stoics in general, ira was a voluntary vice which was to be avoided. 469 Proper avoidance can only occur if the emotion is not assented to through a voluntary (and therefore ethically consequential) movement of the mind. 470 Because assent is voluntary and entails ethical judgment, Seneca identifies anger as “a high-level response requiring not only an impression of injury received but also assent to that impression.” 471 Margaret Graver notes that “the latter (assent), but not the former (impression), involves complex cognitive processing,” and that “anger, properly so called, is psychologically complex; its complexity is in fact what marks it as a rational and therefore voluntary response.” 472 Ira -- voluntary, rational, ethical, and properly called -- is presented by Seneca as the second of three movements in a temporal sequence. 473 The first movement is principia proludentia adfectibus, the necessary underpinnings of emotion that are common across emotional experiences, including those which result from aesthetic, sympathetic, and other socially conditioned reflexes. 474 The third is out of control emotion that ranges into extreme behaviors. 475 Ira, properly defined, is thus flanked by two things which are not ira, and yet the first transmutes into ira proper, which is rational. So, neither the first nor the third movement is a rational phenomenon, but the first is necessary to the second, which is. 476 468 See Vogt 2006: 68. 469 Konstan 2015: 178. 470 Vogt 2006: 59-60. 471 Graver 2007: 94. See De ira 2.1.3-4. 472 Ibid. 473 De ira 2.4.1 474 Graver 2007: 96 re De ira 2.2.1-2.3.3 475 Kaster 2015: 178 notes that if assent were not required, we would be at the mercy of our passions. 476 Graver 2007: 129. 139 Since, as detailed above, thoughts precede belief, which precedes action, one way to try to understand Seneca’s definition of anger and emotion more generally is that “thoughts” in this context are tied to pricipia proludentia adfectibus, which precede belief, which is tied to assent, of which “thoughts” are a constitutive element. This sequence is rooted in Stoic notions of temporality. Chrysippus, according to Stobaeus and Plutarch, 477 identified ἐνεστῶτα, a state of completion expressed by a perfect active participle, as representing the Stoic “present” that actively “belongs.” This “belonging” is thus characterized by belief. This characterization is a consequence of the past contributing to the “belonging” part of the present. Principia proludentia adfectibus, which are a part of “thought,” are of the past, which is expressed by a perfect middle-passive participle (παρῳχημένον). What is done in the middle-perfect in the past becomes a part of the perfect “belonging” of the present. The future, which the present will become a part of when assented to, is expressed with a present participle (μέλλοντα). This verbal combination reflects the “smeared” quality of Stoic time, which, like the mind, is ever in motion, which in turn illuminates why principia proludentia adfectibus are an element of motus animi (e.g. ira), which can then carry into future action. 478 477 Stob. 1.106; Comm. Not. 1081c. 478 The interpretation of Seneca’s sequence of movement I have provided might make it seem as though anger were an acceptable emotion, provided it was controlled by or responsive to reason. David Konstan 2015: 178 points out that “this is not in fact the Stoic view, nor is it Seneca’s,” because Seneca argues that pietas is a sufficient motive for exacting revenge -- it does not require ira. Nevertheless, Seneca is known for his inconsistencies and provides an example of ira being a valid emotion for those with appropriate social status and moral restraint (3.40). Although Seneca may have been obligated to portray leadership in this way, I would still urge caution against taking up the position that ira is never appropriate wholesale. Further complicating our understanding of Seneca’s sequence are alternative temporal arguments pertaining to Seneca’s emotional “movements.” For example, Elizabeth Asmis suggests that the use of past-tense verbs by Seneca (2.3.4) to identify thought (putauit), desire (voluit) and response (resedit) marks the series as one comprised of successive, momentary responses. But there is a significant difference between what she is tracking and what I have proposed paying attention to. Putauit, voluit and resedit refer only to mental activity. If one is a sage, then perhaps these are all clearly demarcated phases of mental activity that can be examined as if spatiotemporal realities were suspended. The early Stoic verbs that I draw attention to, on the other hand, view human experience holistically. There is a continuity that exists between perception, conception (to which we assent or not), and action (which is either constant/unchanged or turbulent/changed (cf. perturbationes)). Each temporal element carries forth to blend into the next as a consequence of and in conjunction with rational thought processes. That is to say, when we perceive something that causes ira, although we might have the mental training to pause and respond to that experience, that experience as a whole is not in any real way demarcated – experience flows like water. The mental activities Asmis plucks out are thus superimpositions on a thoroughly sensible view of embodied temporal experience. I also note here that I do not address the carrying forth of a rational emotion into irrational behavior, which is clearly a case that concerns Seneca and would naturally 140 In Chapter Two, I broke down the otherwise unfamiliar phrase principia proludentia adfectibus to arrive at the definition of: an ongoing, unfinished community of movements that represent the origins of a flexible system of emotional expression that has the potential to spontaneously create variously defined groups of similarly feeling individuals. 479 I further submitted that the term suggests that Seneca was aware of the mutual solicitation of position and disposition that embodied and embedded agents participate in without conscious awareness, 480 with principia proludentia adfectibus operating not only as signals to individuals that something has the appearance of being good or bad, 481 but also as socially distributed sets of bodily operations that work on their context to produce countless acts of practical correspondences. 482 Motus animorum is achieved when such correspondences occur, as they are necessary to the spontaneous instantiation of socioemotional communities. The establishment of such communities through emotional resonance, I have argued, is the result of principia proludentia adfectibus providing “a feel for the game” by way of the semantic body, which is a necessary component of constitutive rhetoric that paves the way not only for motus animi, but also for motus animorum. 483 Individuals who grow angry at the same things naturally coalesce and anger is thus a constitutive element of that particular, spontaneously occurring socioemotional group. The same is true of individuals who “move away” from follow from the adoption of a “smeared” view of temporal experience. I leave this to the side because it is beyond the scope of the discussion, which is concerned with assent and what leads up to it, not with the various possibilities of action that may follow. 479 I suggest this based in part on the apparent coherence of principia proludentia adfectibus with propatheiai, the sub-rational emotional movements that may occur equally with impressions about to be rejected or endorsed and are thus experienced by the wise and unwise alike. See Graver 2002 and Sihvola and Engberg-Pedersen 1998 for attribution of the concept to either Posidonius or Zeno and Chrysippus before him. 480 This relates to Seneca’s notion of “crowds” infecting individuals with their opinions. Asmis 2015: 233 identifies this as not having to do with social status, but rather with the sheer number of any morally undesirable collection. 481 Rosenwein 2006: 38-9 provides this as the Stoic definition, but acknowledges it is wrong to assume a unanimous Stoic position on the emotions. 482 See Lizardo 2004: 392. 483 Jasinski 2001: 107 summarizing Charland 1987, who is concerned with the identity of the audience created as soon as that audience acknowledges being addressed. For illustration, Jasinski gives the example of a television commercial for toothpaste, which “manages not only to sell its product but also to energize certain identity possibilities as it positions its audience in the role of ‘consumers’.” I am of course referring to a moral address, so “acknowledgment” in this case is analogous to “assent” for the Stoics. 141 anger. The potential for emotion to connect a variety of individuals in thought and action accords with the Stoic belief that the universe is a single organism with all parts interconnected, creating a theory of physics that is, in effect, a theory of “cosmobiology.” 484 The Stoic universe itself mirrors the avoidance-approach movements of body, mind, and emotion in its repeated expansions and contractions. 485 Body, mind, and environment are all grounded in the same emotionally and morally implicated movement of the avoidance- approach schema. The Stoic belief in interconnectedness suggests further that the role of principia proludentia adfectibus in motus animorum was fundamentally intercorporeal, and principia proludentia adfectibus, which “move” us toward or away from certain propositions, played an important part in Seneca’s writings. Strictly for the sake of illustrating how one might imagine principia proludentia adfectibus operating intercorporeally to induce individuals to “move together” in the Stoic universe, let’s look at an analogy used by Aristotle to explain inductive reasoning in Posterior Analytics (AP 2.19 100a10-14): Thus [these faculties] arise from sense-perception, just as, when a retreat has occurred in battle, if one man halts so does another, and then another, until the original position is restored (ἀρχὴν ἦλθεν). The soul is so constituted that it is capable of the same sort of process (δύνασθαι πάσχειν). 486 I use this otherwise unrelated passage for illustration because it provides a way of imagining how emotions (as well as their restraint) can be transmitted to members of a specified group. Each man mirrors the actions of the others such that the individual movements made characterize the nature of the formation as a whole. 487 The Stoics employ a similar analogy 484 See Habinek 2011: 66n7-8 for references. 485 See Habinek 2011: 66. This is related to pneuma and mirrors the movement of the body as it breathes in (expansion) and exhales (contraction). 486 Translation by Tredennick 1960. 487 An army, according to Simplicius (On Aristotle’s Categories 214,24-37 (SVF 2.391 part), exists by separation (i.e. is unified in a way that differentiates it from natural substances; see Long and Sedley 1987: 289, so movements are the product of “joint-cause” (συναίτιον). A “joint-cause” is conceived jointly with another which is itself likewise incapable of independently producing the effect (see Clement, Miscellanies 8.9.33.1-9 (SVF 2.351 in Long and Sedley 1987: 336). Long and Sedley 1987: 342 explain this in terms of a choir as a 142 when trying to explain how incorporeal entities can affect the corporeal, noting that even when at a distance a student mirrors the movements of their teacher. 488 As Thomas Habinek observes, according to the Stoic view, “the bodies of the trainer and the trainee are part of one continuum -- the trainer’s reconfiguration of his body reconfigures that of the pupil in a manner similar to the way modern neuroscience understands the mirroring properties of certain neurons, which allows one body to get inside of another.” 489 This is how we might understand motus animorum and the intercorporeal nature of constitutive rhetoric. The “movement” of the speaker or author “gets inside” auditors and readers, who thusly move, enabling emotional communities (i.e. communities of “movement”) to form and reform over time. COMPREHENDERE AND STOIC (ESP. SENECAN) ASSENT Stoic assent (κατάληψις) is conceived of as a haptic movement. In well-known passages from Cicero’s Academica (1.41 & 2.145), Zeno is said to have likened cognition – the second of the movements identified by Seneca in relation to ira – to the grasping of an object with one’s hand. 490 The term that Cicero assigns to this is comprehendere, a word which in Seneca’s works figures most prominently in his Epistles and Naturales Quaestiones. In the latter of these texts, it is used in reference to fate and various other naturally occurring phenomena. 491 In the letters, it does not appear until Seneca tackles Plato’s τὸ ὄν, which he cause of harmony. There is not a single breath that characterizes the choir as a single unity, but the several breaths of individual choristers act as a joint-cause, because no one of them is sufficient to produce the sound heard. Hence, Aristotle goes on to say in his Posterior Analytics that many can become one: (στάντος γὰρ τῶν ἀδιαφόρων ἑνός). See also Habinek 2005: 169, who notes that citizen soldiers “would have been required to conceive of their bodies as simultaneously free and coerced, as autonomous entities and participants in collective action.” 488 Habinek 2011: 68. 489 Habinek 2011: 68. 490 See Long and Sedley 1987: 322: assent mediates between impressions and impulses. See Acad.1.41-42: “grasping” is the stage between knowledge and ignorance. 491 2.38.1 comprehensum sit/esse: appear in an argument about whether or not there is a need for vows in order for fated action to take place. 2.48.1 non potest enim ulla incerti esse comprehensio: appears in a discussion of the timing of lightning bolts and their interpretation. Ulla incerti is temporal. 143 begrudgingly translates as quod est. 492 He uses comprehendere a number of times while interrogating what can be grasped by way of the senses and explaining why virtue and vice are grasped instead by the intellect. 493 In the main, he argues that the senses are useful for grasping the species of things, while the intellect is needed to grasp the genus of those things. 494 Accordingly, he tells us that those matters which the senses and the memory can grasp are clear, while those which are outside their scope are vague (aperta, quae sensu conprehenduntur, quae memoria; obscura, quae extra haec sunt). 495 Grasping virtue must then be a matter of memory rather than of the senses (cf. mos maiorum). Nevertheless, the 3.29.3 in semine omnis futura hominis ratio comprehensa est. There is by nature incorporated in all things from the beginning everything that must be undergone. 4a.2.3 unde crescere incipiat si comprehendi posset… in reference to determining the cause of flooding (re. the Nile). 5.1.3 Ergo, ut parum diligenter comprehendet quod vult qui dixerit, “fluctus est maris agitatio” … “fluctus est maris in unam partem agitatio.” Found in a discussion about how to talk about wind. 6.3.2 naturam oculis, non ratione, comprehendimus, nec cogitamus quid illa facere possit, sed tantum quid fecerit. In discussion of fear inspired by the unusual. He draws a distinction between novis (scary) and insolita (not scary). 6.24.1 nec oculis comprehensibilia: in reference to small openings in the earth 7.3.2 nondum comprehensis quinque siderum cursibus: in reference to astronomical discussion of Democritus. 7.8.1-4 intra se comprehendit: appears twice in discussion of refuted theory of comets that likens them to a whirlwind drawing matter into itself. If we read the occurrences in the first and last books in tandem, the analogy seems to be that just as the whirlwind exists without the matter which becomes constitutive of it, so too does fate exist without the oaths that become constitutive of it (2.38.1 7.8.1-4). And the uncertainty of the timing of lightning strikes is related to the uncertainty of time itself (2.48.1 7.3.2). In sum, things happen and we don’t know why. Through the middle of the discussion, attention turns to flooding rivers and surging seas, being confined to the present moment, and the presence of things unseen. As we will see later in the chapter, these topics appear to be of some importance to Seneca in his De ira. 492 Ep.58.8: genus…quo universa conprensa sunt (“genus is the term under which universal ideas are embraced”; re. quod est). 493 Ep. 58.16: nec ullo sensu conprenditur (referencing Plato); Ep.65.11: haec…turba causarum aut nimium multa aut nimium pauca conprendit (“this throng of causes embraces either too much or too little”; re. Plato/Aristotle); Ep.66.9: certis terminis conprensum (re. complete categories); Ep.85.1 iubes me…comprendere; Ep.88.24: si totius mundi naturam posset conprendere (re. science of numbers); Ep.88.11: in reference to catching an error in the measuring of parcel of land; Ep. 88.35: Quamcumque partem rerum humanarum divinarumque conprenderis, ingenti copia quaerendorum ac discendorum fatigaberis (“whatever phase of things human and divine you have apprehended, you will be wearied by the vast number of things to be answered and things to be learned”); Ep. 89.2: Nam conprehendere quemadmodum maxima ita minima difficile est (“just as it is hard to take in what is indefinitely large, so it is hard to take in what is indefinitely small”); an analogy between vision and philosophical knowledge); Ep.120.11: conprehendimus temperantiam, fortitudinem, prudentiam, iustitiam…; Ep.122.17: comprendi eorum genera non possunt (of vice); 124.2: Quaeritur, utrum sensu conprendatur an intellectu bonum? 494 He seems to use the term in the way one would expect from Cicero’s Academica. 495 Ep.95.61. 144 Stoics are committed to the claim nihil in intellectu quod non prius sensibus: 496 sensory experience provides the starting points for conceptions of the good, 497 so Seneca’s claim is only that reason (and memory as an element thereof) is ultimately criterial, not that it acts alone; that it is decisive, not that it is the only factor. 498 Here, I again think consideration of Stoic conceptions of time is helpful. I suggest this because Seneca says that mute animals rely only on sense perception, 499 lack a complete sense of time, 500 and display motion that results from their nature. 501 Always in the present, with no concept of the past or future, they move only in response to sensory information. They do not appreciate the “smeared” quality of time, which accounts for the integration of principia proludentia adfectibus into motus animi and the actions produced by the value-oriented “movements” constitutive of memory. That is to say, unlike humans, animals react without the ability to contextualize either the stimulus or their response to it, which renders it impossible for them to establish or maintain a moral universe in which avoidance-approach intuitions have sociomoral significance. The human understanding of time according to Seneca is presumably the same as that which drew the Stoic philosopher Epictetus to observe that wise men make use of sensory information, describing assent as “the power to use impressions,” 502 which echoes Cicero’s Carneades, who remarked that “the wise man will make use of whatever apparently probable presentation he encounters.” 503 Probability, according Philo in his discussion of Zeno, 504 is calculated by the senses, which are responsible for Seneca’s principia proludentia adfectibus, which are associated with the first movement in the temporal sequence highlighted by him. 496 See Bartsch 2007: 94n38: The Stoics were less suspicious of such sense data than Plato, judging knowledge through the senses as the only source of knowledge available (Watson 1988: 55); see Diog. Laert. 7.49. 497 Inwood 2007: 368. 498 Inwood 2007: 366. 499 Ep.124.16. 500 Ep.124.16-17. 501 Ep.124.19. 502 62K3 L&S 322. 503 Acad. 99. 504 Acad.1.41-42. 145 Such probability is calculated naturally, because natura quasi normam scientiae et principium sui dedisset (“nature has bestowed the innate ability to recognize patterns”). 505 In modern terms we might refer to this ability as “predictive processing.” 506 Predictive processing theory hypothesizes that top-down prediction processes rather than bottom-up sensory information govern sensory experience, movement, and energy expenditure. Perception and action are seen to operate within an integrated framework of embodied experience wherein predictive processing allows for “fast and frugal” solutions in the carrying out of tasks across contexts. 507 Thoughts and actions emerge from unconsciously made predictions that are based upon expectations spanning multiple scales of time and space. The role of sensory signals is to provide corrective feedback to predictions that emerge from past experience. Awareness of the past is essential. The utility of sensory impressions in confirming or denying patterns, while obvious in the modern theory, is less so in the ancient sources, but is nevertheless detectable. After identifying our innate ability to recognize patterns, Philo (still relating the teaching of Zeno) goes on to say that such pattern-recognition opens up not only our view to first principles but also enables certain broader roads of reasoning to be discovered (non principia solum sed latiores quaedam ad rationem inveniendam viae aperirentur). 508 We are told nothing substantial about what this means, though a fragment of uncertain context from the Academica seems to suggest that the “roads” in question cut through an ethical landscape: Quod si liceret, ut iis qui in itinere deerravissent, sic vitam deviam secutis corrigere errorem paenitendo, facilior esset emendatio temeritatis. 505 See Seneca’s boni sensus (p.142 above). 506 Predictive brain hypotheses have emerged from computational and cognitive neuroscience. A prevalent account is that of “action-oriented predictive processing” or “active inference.” See Clark 2013. Unlike Seneca, however, predictive processing theories apply to the cognition of all living organisms, not just humans. 507 See Clark 2015. Animals enjoy this type of processing also. 508 See also Acad. 2.19: “the senses contain the highest truth” (est maxima in sensibus veritas). 146 Whereas if those who have pursued a devious path in life were allowed, like travellers who had wandered from the road, to remedy their mistakes by repenting, the correction of recklessness would be easier. 509 This is of course already suggested by the capacity to grasp impressions being identified as being tied to the study of ethics, 510 and knowledge derived from sensation being identified as the basis of virtue. 511 Impressions are thus useful to the study of ethics by virtue of their relationship to probability and probability’s role in action creation. 512 So, we can read Seneca’s above example about walking, an activity that is set off through “saying to oneself” and approving of one’s opinion that one should walk, as one that situates the individual as a body in the ethical landscape, wherein “movement” away and toward entails ethical commitments derived from probabilities that can be influenced by the senses, and if one tends to walk in a particular direction (i.e. toward a particular ethical target), one will probably continue to do so. 513 In light of what we have seen with aspernatio and the role of touch and spatial reasoning in Tacitean power negotiations, it is of no small interest that Seneca also argues in his final epistle that “someone whose sense of touch makes judgments about what is good and bad in the most important area of life is wallowing in the depths of ignorance about the truth and has tossed to the ground what is lofty and divine” (in quanta ignorantia veritatis versetur et quam humi sublimia ac divina proiecerit, apud quem de summo, bono malo, iudicat tactus). 514 This is an attack on the Epicureans, who prioritize touch as a source of knowledge, which contributes to and ultimately merges indistinguishably with their conviction that pleasure is the sole criterion of judgment. 515 Seneca’s main argument is that 509 Rackham 1951: 460. 510 Acad. 2.23. 511 Acad. 2.30. 512 The value of probability is later disputed (2.35ff.), but this is not pertinent to the cogent thread of argumentation here identified. 513 Ep.133.18. 514 Ep. 124.5. 515 See Ep. 124.4. 147 vision is more acute than touch and should be the sense that guides assent, which is nevertheless understood in terms of touch viz. grasping with the hand. For Seneca, aspernatio occurs automatically in response to certain kinds of touch, but comprehendere is the product of visual examination and is not similarly based on an automatic judgment call. Touch is not causal to comprehendere like it is to aspernari, rather comprehendere is causal to touch, which is then subject to aspernatio. The former is a complex mental process that concludes with agentive touch, while the latter is an instinctive response by a patient that is caused by touch. There has been a failure by modern readers to recognize the role of the body in linguistic expression and the avoidance-approach dynamic that defines the relationship between comprehendere and aspernari, which are motions deeply implicated in the negotiation of knowledge and power. Brad Inwood, for example, says of Seneca’s above remark about the Epicureans that “verticality holds no argumentative weight,” but in light of what we have seen so far, I would say that he is surely incorrect. 516 Proiecerit humi is movement away and downward (from the thrower), and elsewhere, downward and away movement seems to play a part in how judgment about what has been grasped is expressed. For example, when referring to the recognition of error Seneca says: cuius peccatum deprendit. 517 The downward and away motion contained by the prefix reflects a value judgment pertaining to the deed-as-comprehended. Seneca uses the same term to tell of the colleagues of Socrates grasping and negatively assessing his concealed anger. 518 And once 516 See Inwood 2007: 367. 517 De ira 1.19.5. 518 De ira 3.13.3: In Socrate irae signum erat vocem summittere, loqui parcius. Apparebat tunc illum sibi obstare. Deprendebatur itaque a familiaribus et coarguebatur, nec erat illi exprobratio latitantis irae ingrata (“In the case of Socrates, it was a sign of anger if he lowered his voice and became sparing of speech. It was evident then that he was struggling against himself. And so his intimate friends would grasp this and accuse him, yet he was not displeased by the charge of concealing his anger”). 148 again to describe the recognition of base things. 519 To throw or “move” down and away in response to the right things is to properly grasp them, while to throw or “move” down and away in response to the wrong things is to reject that which should be held as good or valid. The verticality Inwood dismisses is deeply implicated in moral argumentation, because when a person assents to an impression, he/she assents to a value judgment also. 520 That is to say, individuals and groups approach certain moral objects and move away from others, holding on to some and pitching others away. As Thomas Habinek notes, assenting or not assenting is the core and foundational ethical act. 521 Stoic impressions, then, play an important role in what Epictetus called “moral choice,” or prohairesis: in assenting to or dissenting from various impressions, we exercise our ability to reason about the true value of them. 522 Therefore, the argumentative weight of Seneca’s verticality is evident: those who grasp without seeing end up throwing valid authority down and away (and in the case of the Epicureans, misidentifying the form and function of pleasure). As Ruth Millikan puts it when discussing natural as well as linguistic signs: in addition to seeing how one might reach toward, grasp, and/or remove an object, it is well to see whether it is a thistle or a raspberry. 523 This is of great importance to Seneca, because when entire schools of people grasp or cast moral objects down, a moral community forms wherein each “movement” impacts and ultimately gives rise to the whole by way of its interconnected parts. RETHINKING SENECA’S STYLE Belief in the influence of interconnected parts on the whole characterizes Stoic thought and opens up our view onto the art of persuasion in Seneca as a Stoic author. As we move 519 De ira 3.30.1: Quod accidere vides animalibus mutis, idem in homine deprendes; frivolis turbamur et inanibus (“You will understand that the same thing happens with a man which you observe in dumb animal. We are ruffled by silly and petty things”). 520 See Bartsch 2007: 89. 521 Habinek 2011: 76. 522 Bartsch 2007: 88. 523 Millikan 2017: 133. 149 forward, I hope to demonstrate this by looking at certain protreptic features of De ira which I think reveal a particular enactive analogy that functions as a coherence device and grants some insight into Senecan assent and the bodily art of persuasion. In line with the definition of enactive analogies that I have proposed so far, I will approach the text with the externalization of the body into environmental features in mind. I will also focus not on the formal rhetoric deployed in the treatise, but rather on the constitutive rhetoric produced by a particular interoceptive bodily schema. Seneca begins his treatise on ira as follows: Exegisti a me, Novate, ut scriberem quemadmodum posset ira leniri, nec immerito mihi videris hunc praecipue affectum pertimuisse maxime ex omnibus taetrum ac rabidum. Ceteris enim aliquid quieti placidique inest, hic totus concitatus et in impetu doloris est, armorum sanguinis suppliciorum minime humana furens cupiditate, dum alteri noceat sui neglegens, in ipsa irruens tela et ultionis secum ultorem tracturae avidus Quidam itaque e sapientibus viris iram dixerunt brevem insaniam; aeque enim impotens sui est, decoris oblita, necessitudinum immemor, in quod coepit pertinax et intenta, rationi consiliisque praeclusa, vanis agitata causis, ad dispectum aequi verique inhabilis, ruinis simillima, quae super id quod oppressere franguntur. You have asked me, Novatus, to write on the subject of how anger can be calmed, and it seems to me that you had good reason to especially fear this, the most repulsive and savage of all emotions. For the other emotions have some element of peace and calm in them, while this one is a thorough wave of anguish raging with an especially inhuman desire for weapons, blood and punishment, giving no consideration to itself so long as it can harm another, hurling itself on the very same weapon, eager for revenge, though it may drag the avenger down with it. Certain wise men have thus claimed that anger is temporary insanity. For it is equally devoid of self-control, forgetful of decency, unmindful of ties, persistent and diligent in whatever it begins, closed to reason and counsel, excited by trifling causes, unfit to discern the right and the true – it is most similar to waters that are broken above that which they oppress. 524 De ira is thought to have been written in the wake of Caligula’s bewildering tenure as emperor, around the time of Seneca’s exile by Claudius. We will return to the significance of 524 Translation adapted from Basore 1928. 150 this timing shortly. First, I want to draw attention to the role water plays in structuring the opening lines of the treatise. Seneca constructs the concept of ira as water beginning with taeter, a favorite word of Cicero repeatedly used to modify belua (sea-monster) in his Philippics, wherein he refers to Marc Antony as a Charybdis. 525 Although Cicero is unique in this pairing, taeter is elsewhere found in the context of water and the sea. 526 Catullus associates the adjective with Scylla. 527 It is also used by Seneca to refer to certain awful things that are not unlike the monsters invented by poets. 528 Enmeshed with taeter and the evocation of the Ciceronian metaphor is rabidus, a term associated with dogs by Seneca not much further into the text (1.6). It is also used to characterize the dogs metonymic of Scylla in Ovid’s Amores (3.12), the anonymous panegyric to Messalla in the Tibullan corpus (3.7), wherein waves take on the ferocity of dogs, 529 and in Plautus’s Trinummus (4.1), wherein rain and waves are described as canine companions with a propensity for tearing things apart. 530 The association of dogs with the sea (or some state thereof) is of course as old as Homer, wherein we first encounter Scylla and Charybdis. The latter is characterized as divine, while the former is of course associated with canines. Within this conceptual context, Seneca warns that the one who assents to anger will be the architect of their own demise with 525 2.67; 3.28; 4.14; 7.27; 10.22; 12.11. For discussion see Devereaux (forthcoming). 526 E.g. Accius uses the archaic flucti in context with taetra, though in reference to saxa, which are presumably taetra due to their constant interaction with the waves. Trag. 1: Flúcti inmisericórdes iacere, taétra ad saxa adlídere (“unmerciful waves toss and dash against the foul rocks”). 527 C.60: Num te leaena montibus Libystinis aut Scylla latrans infima inguinum parte tam mente dura procreavit ac taetra… (“Was it a lioness up in the Libyan foothills or Scylla barking from her nether groin who bore you with so tough and foul a mind-set…”) 528 De ira 2.35.5: Quales sunt hostium vel ferarum caede madentium aut ad caedem euntium aspectus, qualia poetae inferna monstra finxerunt succincta serpentibus et igneo flatu, quales ad bella excitanda discordiamque in populos dividendam pacemque lacerandam teterrimae inferum exeunt (“Such is the aspect of an enemy or wild beasts wet with the blood of slaughter or bent upon slaughter; such are the infernal monsters of the poet’s brain, all girt about with snakes and breathing fire; such are those most foul shapes that issue forth from hell to stir up wars and scatter discord among the peoples and tear peace all to shreds”). 529 N.B. Juster and Maltby 2102 suggest on metrical and stylistic grounds that the panegyric is probably a school exercise from the Flavian period. See also Statius” Silvae 3.2.85. 530 The Plautus passage is conceptually and linguistically linked to Pacuvius (trag.355-60 ROL) identified by Cicero (Div.1.24) as pertaining to a storm that destroyed much of the Greek fleet after the sack of Troy (Od. 1.326- 7, 3.130-85). Quoted at de Orat.3.157. 151 verbiage that echoes the elder Seneca’s Vibius Gallus, who speaks to the natural desire to avenge one’s own death at the moment of dying (Cont. 9.6.2): 531 Concitatissuma est in morte rabies, et desperatione ultima in furorem animus impellitur. Quaedam ferae tela ipsa commordent et ad mortis auctorem per vulnera sua ruunt. Ferocity is most aroused at the point of death, when with ultimate despair the mind is driven into madness. Certain beasts snap at the very weapons that strike them and rush on amidst their own wounds at the author of their death. 532 This in turn resonates with Aristotle and the younger Seneca’s identification of anger as a sort of desire whetted for revenge. 533 The idea of reflexivity is also present in the simile that concludes the opening lines of the treatise: [ira est] ruinis simillima quae super id quod oppressere franguntur. 534 The simile has been attributed to Cont. 4.4 -- ruinis incendia opprimit 535 -- however, there is nothing of fire in the opening of the treatise. As has been shown, it is rather quite the opposite – water – that is central to Seneca’s introduction. I would thus suggest that the simile ties into a network of conceptualizations that associate ira with the sea and individuals with breaking waves, translating it as: [anger is] most similar to 531 This echo occurs again in De ira 3.4.3: Ferarum, me hercules, sive illas fames agitat sive infixum visceribus ferrum, minus taetra facies est, etiam cum venatorem suum semianimes morsu ultimo petunt, quam hominis ira flagrantis (“Wild beasts, I swear, whether tormented by hunger or the steel that has pierced their vitals, and half- dead they rush upon their hunter for one last bite, even they are less foul in appearance than a man burning with anger”). 532 Winterbottom links Gallus’s speech to Sen.Agam.202: mors misera non est commori cum quo velis (“death holds no pain when shared with whom you wish”). 533 Preserved in Lactantius (De ira dei 17.13) is Posidonius’s definition of anger: ira est cupiditas ulciscendae iniuriae aut, ut ait Posidonius, cupiditas puniendi eius a quo inique putes laesom (“Anger is a desire to avenge an injury or, as Posidonius says, a desire to punish the person by whom you consider yourself unjustly damaged”). See also Aristotle Rhet. 1378a, 2.2 and De an. 303a29-b1 (see Procopé 1998: 176). Milder notions are found in Pacuvius: Nám canis, quando ést percussa lápide, non tam illum ádpetit. Quí sese icit, quam íllum eumpse lápidem, qui ipsa icta ést, petit (“For when a dog is struck by a stone, it attacks not so much him who strikes it as that same stone by which it was struck”). Fragment attributed to Pacuvius’s Armorum Iudicium by Warmington, 1936, and Chrysippus, who noted that “if we stumble over a stone, we take revenge on it by breaking it or throwing it somewhere” (See Galen PHP 4.6.43-45). 534 Perhaps also of note is discussion of earthquakes at QNat. 6.3.1: cum facere videntur iniuriam accipiunt (“at the time they seem to inflict damage they receive damage”). 535 Preisendanz 1908, 110-111. Boyle 2014 translates ruinis simillima “just as a falling building” (p.lv). However, Epictetus associates a collapsing building with fear and contraction, not anger and stretching toward (Gellius 19.1). Ruina being associated with water is found in Vergil (Aen. 1.129): fluctibus oppressos Troas caelique ruina, (“the Trojans overwhelmed by the waves and by the falling down of the sky”) which parallels Trin. 4.16: imbres fluctusque (pouring rain and waves), which parallels fervit aestu pelagus (the sea boiling with heat) in Pacuvius. 152 waters that are broken above that which they oppress. It is a visual metaphor for self- destruction highly visible in the Nurse’s words in Seneca’s Medea (391…394): ubi se iste fluctus franget? exundat furor…se vincet (“when will that wave break itself? Fury pours forth…she destroys herself”) that is made vivid in De ira by the verbal architecture, which seems to imitate the kinetic nature of a wave (concitatus, irruens, tracturae, oppressere, franguntur). Thus, framed by ira and iram, the desirous concept of ira as a wavelike animal is crafted through a combination of minutissimae sententiae and conceptual vividness which is created through the embedded representation of movement. 536 Aesthetically, it is a playfully clever: Exegisti a me. Novate, ut scriberem quemadmodum posset ira leniri, nec immerito mihi videris hunc praecipue affectum pertimuisse maxime ex omnibus taetrum ac rabidum. Ceteris enim aliquid quieti placidique inest, hic totus concitatus et in impetu doloris est, armorum sanguinis suppliciorum minime humana furens cupiditate, dum alteri noceat sui neglegens, in ipsa irruens tela et ultionis secum ultorem tracturae avidus Quidam itaque e sapientibus viris iram dixerunt brevem insaniam; aeque enim impotens sui est, decoris oblita, necessitudinum immemor, in quod coepit pertinax et intenta, rationi consiliisque praeclusa, vanis agitata causis, ad dispectum aequi verique inhabilis, ruinis simillima, quae super id quod oppressere franguntur. The representation of a wave formed of numerous small but significantly networked elements is quite literally in a broken state above the epigrammatic simile (id quod). This playfulness, I suspect, contributes to some of Quintilian’s criticisms of Seneca: Velles eum suo ingenio dixisse, alieno iudicio: nam si obliqua contempsisset, si †parum recta† non concupisset, si non omnia sua amasset, si rerum pondera minutissimis sententiis non fregisset, consensu potius eruditorum quam puerorum amore comprobaretur. (IO. 10.1.130) One could wish that, while he relied on his own intelligence, he had allowed himself to be guided by the taste of others. For if he had only despised all unnatural expressions and had not been so passionately fond of all that was incorrect, if he had not felt such affection for all that was his own, and had not impaired the solidity of his matter by striving after epigrammatic brevity, he 536 This sort of framing is also found in historiography. See Devereaux 2016. Schiesaro 2015: 245n33 associates the phrase with the excessive use of sententiae. 153 would have won the approval of the learned instead of the enthusiasm of boys. 537 Quintilian’s critique is certainly curious, given that Seneca, whom Quintilian admired for his denunciations of vice (10.1.128), advocated the view that one’s style reflects one’s moral character. 538 But emotional and evaluative communities were evolving with the changing attitudes and circumstances of the early principate, and Quintilian’s criticism reflects his concern with contemporary philosophy’s challenge to rhetoric’s supremacy. Seneca’s popular postclassical style was threatening the longevity of Quintilian’s neo-Ciceronian school. 539 Tacitus perceived Seneca to be expressive of the zeitgeist. 540 People had grown impatient with the elaborate long-windedness favoured by earlier generations (see Aper's scornful reference in Dialogus 19.2, to impeditissimarum orationum spatia), so Seneca adopted an accommodating style. 541 That being as it may, I see no reason to focus solely on brevity and deny Seneca the playful cleverness I have suggested is visible in the composition. And I see no reason to dismiss out of hand that it might offer an explanation as to why Quintilian characterized Seneca’s writings as both morally sound yet corrupted by a style that “splinters the consequence of things with fragments of thought” (rerum pondera minutissimis sententiis [fregit]). If the concepts associated with ira by Seneca are the same concepts associated with the sea by many other authors, then why would we assume that Quintilian’s bristling has nothing to do with them? They are, after all, demonstrably embedded in the literary culture of the ancient world, so why not consider this novel suggestion? Moreover, Quintilian also uses the phrase parum diligens to describe Seneca, who himself in a passage concerned with comprehending wind and water (QNat. 5.1.3) uses the term parum diligenter to refer to 537 Butler 1953. 538 See esp. Sen.Ep.114. For discussion see Dominik 1997 and Taoka 2011. 539 Dominik 1997: 52. 540 Currie 1966: 79. 541 Ibid. 154 someone who fails to identify the direction or location (in partem) of a wave. 542 I’d like to think Roman authors had this sort of fun with one another. In addition to offering a fresh take on both the treatise and Quintilian’s criticism of Seneca, my proposed reading of the opening of De ira demonstrates that interoception -- a sense of what's going on inside one’s body – is an aspect of Seneca’s didactic style. The text is underpinned by prelinguistic architecture that is fundamentally derived from bodily experience that maps onto features of the environment. 543 Anger causes increased pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. Rushing blood can be felt in the chest and heard in the ears, often as a whooshing sound that might also account for associations between anger and waves. 544 This bodily information, which anchors the passage, is interoceptive in origin and yet the mental representation accompanying it is a natural feature and state of the environment. The verbal structure (concitatus, irruens, tracturae, oppressere, franguntur) imitates the movement of a wave, an image that is reinforced by culturally embedded conceptual information pertaining to sea monsters. Further reinforcement comes just a few lines further into the same passage (1.5), where we find a modified iteration of this idea, again expressed through verbal architecture: intumescentium, effervescit, insurrexerunt, praecurrant, spumant, spargitur. Swelling, boiling, rising, rushing forth, foaming, and being scattered is similar to being set in motion, rushing forth, being about to drag and oppress, and 542 5.1.3: Ergo, ut parum diligenter comprehendet quod vult qui dixerit, “fluctus est maris agitatio”…“fluctus est maris in unam partem agitatio” (“you do not express accurately what you mean when you say ‘a wave is the motion of the sea’ … ‘a wave is the motion of the sea in one direction’”). 543 See Aristotle’s physiological understanding of intense emotion is of it boiling around the heart in his De anima (403a31): ζέσιν τοῦ περὶ τὴν καρδίαν αἵματος καὶ θερμοῦ; Homer’s transmogrification of Achilles’s μῆνις (“wrath”) into the external environment as a boiling river against which he fights (Il.21.361-66); Pacuvius also made the sea boil with heat (fervit aestu pelagus); and Seneca’s iram in pectore moveri effervescente circa cor sanguine at De ira 2.19.3. 544 As well as wind, which, in storms like that described by Pacuvius, accompanies waves, and is tightly coupled with water in general See e.g. Ira 1.17.4: anger is like the winds that rise from off the earth; generated from streams and marshes they have vehemence, but do not last. So, like waves, “anger begins with a mighty rush, then breaks down from untimely exhaustion.” 155 breaking apart. Both create an image of a crashing wave – one frothier than the other perhaps, but not all pictures are painted the same. They both represent the same “kernel of truth.” In addition to offering a new way to organize and interpret Seneca’s style and Quintilian’s criticism of it, my reading allows us to appreciate how such a style testifies to Seneca’s belief that knowledge is a composite. In his 84 th epistle, Seneca compares learning to the work of bees gathering materials for the production of honey – they must appropriate materials by digesting them and making them their own. He states further that something that is singular may be formed out of many elements (unum quiddam fiat ex multis, sicut unus numerus fit ex singulis, cum minores summas et dissidentes conputatio una comprendit). 545 Such composites, Seneca would seem to suggest in his 38 th epistle, form an important part of his protreptic style, which he identifies as one that utilizes a less imposing method of teaching that provokes not just the desire to learn, but learning itself: [submissiora verba] seminis modo spargenda sunt, quod quamvis sit exiguum, cum occupavit idoneum locum, vires suas explicat et ex minimo in maximos auctus diffunditur. Idem facit ratio; non late patet, si aspicias: in opere crescit. Pauca sunt, quae dicuntur, sed si illa animus bene excepit, convalescunt et exurgunt. Eadem est, inquam, praeceptorum condicio quae seminum; multum efficiunt. et angusta sunt. Tantum, ut dixi, idonea mens capiat illa et in se trahat. Multa invicem et ipsa generabit et plus reddet quam acceperit. (Ep. 38.2) [Foundational/cherished/moderate/humble words] 546 should be scattered like seed; no matter how small the seed may be, if it has once found favourable ground, it unfolds its strength and from an insignificant thing it spreads to its greatest growth. Reason grows the same way; it is not large to the outward view, but increases as it does its work. Few words are spoken, but if the mind has truly caught them, they come into their strength and spring up. Yes, precepts and seeds have the same quality; they produce much, and yet they are slight things. 545 Ep. 84.7: “Something that is one may be formed out of many elements, just as one number is formed of several elements whenever, by our reckoning, lesser sums, each different from the others, are brought together.” 546 I offer multiple simultaneous senses of submissiora for the sake of conceptual clarity. Remainder of translation from Basore 1928. 156 Seneca is in this letter contrasting the explicit and forceful methods of teaching employed in the lecture hall, in which full arguments and sententiae are employed, with the intimate sharing of knowledge typical of private conversation, which relies on small, informal bits of information scattered throughout the composition. In the case under examination here, the “seeds” used produce intersubjective “kernels of truth,” and as such, the architecture of Seneca’s prose provides a particular type of knowledge that would not otherwise be available to distal readers. That is to say, the opening of De ira offers an account of how bodily knowledge in combination with culturally embedded material intimately communicates not just the conceptual content of ira, but also the bodily experience of it. The experience of ira emerges through the transmutation of interoceptive (cardiopulmonary) experience into the kinetic features of an onrushing wave, while the conceptual anchoring of social concepts (i.e. poetic/mythological concepts like Scylla and Charybdis) in the body imparts predictive knowledge that acts as cognitive and protreptic scaffolding. In Seneca’s opening lines I thus suggest we find an enactive analogy: constitutive rhetoric grounded by a culturally embedded yet nevertheless transhistorical body that readily maps onto features of the external environment, providing a locus for community to gather. FLUCTUS ANIMI AND EMOTIONAL ENVIRONMENTS The opening of De ira highlights the reservoir of cultural knowledge contained by the water metaphor. To shed more light on this, let’s begin by considering the tradition Seneca draws upon. We start again with the enactive analogy found in a passage of Pacuvius which Cicero tells us is about certain shipwrecked Greek heroes returning from Troy: tenebrae conduplicantur, noctisque et nimbum occaecat nigror, flamma inter nubis coruscat, caelum tonitru contremit, grando mixta imbri largifluo subita praecipitans cadit, undique omnes venti erumpunt, saevi exsistunt turbines, 157 fervit aestu pelagus… We find an iteration of Pacuvius in Ovid’s telling of Ceyx and Alcyone in his Metamorphoses 11.550…569, the verbal structure of which is markedly similar: tanta vertigine pontus fervet, et inducta piceis e nubibus umbra omne latet caelum, duplicataque noctis imago est. Frangitur incursu nimbosi turbinis arbor, frangitur et regimen … …super medios fluctus niger arcus aquarum frangitur et rupta mersum caput obruit unda. The tossed sea boils, and the covering shadows of pitch-black clouds so hide the sky that it mirrors the aspect of night. The mast is shattered by the onset of a storm-driven whirlwind, and the rudder is shattered. …a black arc of water breaks over the heart of the sea, and the bursting wave buries his drowning head. 547 I embolden caput obruit unda, which is not an extant feature of the Pacuvius passage, because Ovid is not only drawing upon a conceptual tradition, he is also self-referential. The emotional experience common to the Greek soldiers and Ceyx is to what Ovid refers when he writes about the ira of Augustus threatening to overwhelm his head in Tristia 1.2.104-8: 548 …proque Caesare tura piis Caesaribusque dedi, — si fuit hic animus nobis, ita parcite divi! si minus, alta cadens obruat unda caput! fallor, an incipiunt gravidae vanescere nubes, victaque mutati frangitur ira maris? …and as for Caesar and his house, I have loyally offered incense – if such has been my spirit, thus spare me gods! If not, may a towering wave fall and whelm my head! Am I wrong, or is the ira of the sea changed and subdued? 549 547 Translation adapted from Kline: (https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Metamorph11.php#anchor_Toc64105705). 548 For this reading see Ingleheart 2006, who discusses “the necessity of reading between the lines in the Tristia,” especially so as to not miss 1.2’s political aspect, namely that Augustus was the ultimate cause of Ovid’s fear that he might lose his life at sea. See esp. p.90, where Ingleheart points to line 108 as evidence for the storm being caused by Augustus’s anger. 549 Translation adapted from Wheeler 1988. 158 Ovid places himself in the same category as the shipwrecked Greeks and Ceyx, both of whom are embedded in an overpowering landscape structured by autonomic responses to fear. We have seen Ovid’s proclivity for reflexive narratives in his treatment of Daphne and Echo, which allows each distinct narrative to inform the other through an emergent network of meaning. That the dethroned poet laureate, having been exiled away from kith and kin, construed of his circumstances in a way that aligns him with the unfortunate heroes seems a fair interpretation. One might imagine that Seneca, too, is being self-referential with his embedding of a crashing wave in the opening of his treatise, given his circumstances at the time that he wrote the treatise. As mentioned above, it was likely written while he was in exile on the island of Corsica between 41 and 49 CE. I draw attention to this because the externalization of emotion into the environment is a noted feature of Ovid’s exile poetry, in which he universalizes the day-to-day emotional vicissitudes of exile by using the physical world to reflect his internal state, externalising his internal experiences into the landscape. 550 According to Jo-Marie Classen, the cold Pontic wasteland is not so much the cause of Ovid’s suffering, but is rather a representation of it. She argues that images of the external world mitigate and ultimately mythologize the twofold problem facing the exile, namely the inability to understand others and the loss of one’s native speech. 551 The landscape performs an expression of internal experience that, despite being crafted through language, transcends it by virtue of its purely experiential quality. The ensoulment of the landscape in this way is also a way of demonstrating that the Caesar’s punishment has been effective in actuality. The landscape is Ovid’s experience – participant and location become momentarily one. 552 Seneca, it would seem, innovated this common feature of Ovidian exilic poetry by creating a prose 550 Classen 1999: 182; 190. 551 Classen 1999: 202. 552 See Burke 2011: 106. 159 composition in which a bodily experience of emotion is explored through a feature of the landscape. This both allows him to maintain a tradition of depicting the ira of the princeps as a crashing wave, while at the same time exploring the feelings of anger he experienced in kind. Such explorations are to be found elsewhere in the treatise. In Chapter Three, for example, I pointed out that Cyrus raging against the Gyndes in De ira 3.21 is connected to Achilles’s battle with the Scamander, because in both cases the river and the battle with it represent an internal experience that is enacted though engagement with the environment. 553 Cyrus becomes his own worst enemy by succumbing to resentment. This Herodotean narrative is allegorized by Seneca. Cyrus digs 360 channels to divert the onslaught of water and reduce it to a stream, which, while successful in reducing the strength of the current, leads to his ultimate failure. The kernel of truth supplied by the interoceptive metaphor that grounds the opening of the treatise thereby enable readers to see that Cyrus represents an example of how not to apply Seneca’s earlier instruction on managing emotion: … [sapiens] labore continuo resistit, nec ideo intermittit, quia quantum exhaustum est subnascitur. Lento adiutorio opus est contra mala continua et fecunda, non ut desinant, sed ne vincant. (De ira 2.10.8) … [a wise man] tries to overcome [ira] by ceaseless labor, and he does not relax his effort simply because as much water springs up as is pumped out. The succor against continuous and prolific evils must be tenacious, aimed not at their cessation but against their victory. 554 Cyrus took things further than necessary. The dangerous strength of the river was mitigated and yet he persisted to weaken it beyond measure. The opening lines of the treatise, by signaling the central importance of water, thus provide a coherence device for this particular strand of dialogue. An enactive analogy that renders human emotions as moving bodies of 553 [iratus fuit] Cyrus flumini …. ille bellum indictum hosti cum flumine gerit. See also Seneca’s apparent reference to Xerxes raging against the Hellespont (Herodotus 7.35) at De ira 3.19.5. 554 Basore 1928. 160 water betrays the river as at once internal and external. To look upon the enervated Gyndes is also to gaze upon the internal life of Cyrus, who was defeated by resentment. We can then also see that, in the mythologized landscape of exile, Cyrus is not only a didactic figure, he is also a foil inhabiting the landscape of Seneca’s exilic experience, blurring the lines between subject and object, student and teacher. 555 Water is a feature of the environment that transmogrifies subjective internal emotional experience into the objective sensory stimuli needed for further discovery to take place. One might think of such discoveries in terms of something Freud said in Civilization and its Discontents. He famously uses Rome as an analogy for memory, 556 because Rome’s past and present exist side-by-side amidst its ancient ruins and recent renovations. This evolution of spatiotemporal experience is what makes Rome the “Eternal City.” But Freud was wrong to suggest in his analogy that the same space could not accommodate multiple contents. 557 The observer can see different contents in the same space by shifting their gaze or position. 558 This is true of texts as well. Images and experiences of the landscape or its features can be embedded by way of a prelinguistic architecture that can make the emotional unconscious available to distal readers, if they simply adjust their perspective. That is why, for example, although a modern reader might not have exact knowledge of what ira or Scylla and Charybdis “meant” to members of Roman culture, they can get a “feel” for it through the blood of the body being analogized into a wave found in the external, observable environment. In this way the body becomes an emotional landscape that unfolds together with the narrative. We can see this in Seneca’s introduction, which allows us to see, from a 555 This way of reading the text coheres with Seneca’s many thoughts about the collaborative nature of knowledge-seeking (e.g.) Ot. 3.1: nunc veritatem cum eis ipsis qui docent quaerimus (“As it is, we are in search of the truth in company with the very men who teach it”); Ep. 7.8: mutuo ista fiunt, et homines, dum docent, discunt (“The process is mutual, for men learn while they teach”). 556 Freud 2015: 50. 557 See Kingsbury and Pile 2016: xviii. 558 Ibid. 161 previously untaken perspective, that many mythic, poetic, scientific and philosophical discourses about ira find their ultimate structure in the body as body-of-water. 559 To appreciate this, all we have to do is be willing to shift our gaze. Readers who are able to take this perspective, can understand the opening of the treatise as an assimilation of practice, namely that of identifying the anger of the princeps as a swell of water, and thereby participate in an intellectual community that originates in the terminus a quo of the body. The interoceptive experience of rushing blood which is externalized into a recognizable feature of the natural environment enables the treatise as a whole to be read as self-reflective. The “seeds” of thought scattered throughout the opening of the composition provide the necessary scaffolding. By way of the body, ira is thus reasoned about scientifically and mastered through moral teachings that require a particular understanding of time. To understand all of this is to understand the nature of Seneca’s wave and the intricacies of the protreptic appeal made visible by it in the opening lines of De ira. One might thus think of a passage like this as a means of bringing about or increasing the adherence of minds to the theses that one proposes for assent. 560 Assenting to a definition of ira, whether species or genus, is not the same thing as assenting to ira the emotion in vivo, but grasping either requires experiential knowledge of ira as lived experience. Assenting to the embodied truthfulness of the concept as it is constructed in the opening of the treatise thus enables a collective identity to emerge in the pursuit of knowledge. CONCLUSION As we have now seen, grasping and spurning play an important role in narratives concerned with knowledge and power. 561 What I have suggested in this chapter is that while the Stoics 559 James Ker 2006: 31 characterizes Seneca’s writing as “a continual embedding of one genre in another.” 560 See Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca 1969: 4. 561 This represents a layer of bodily meaning distinct from those standardly recognized in Latin expressions involving the hands, which are especially well known from legal terminology. See Corbeill 2004: 20-21: To 162 in general and Seneca in particular did not advocate the assent to emotion in vivo, grasping knowledge of emotional experience is made possible, in part, by enactive analogy. The enactive analogy that grounds the opening passage of Seneca’s De ira, as I have shown, is essential to distal readers wishing to appreciate the fullness of the knowledge Seneca provides through his compositional style. An enactive analogy creates a threshold of experience that allows meaning to emerge through the internal experience of emotion being mapped by the body onto features of the external world. Assent to this meaning is structured around the avoidance-approach schema and is haptic in its conceptualization. Knowledge is therefore dependent on the self-same “kernels of truth” vital to historiographical writings concerned with the negotiation of power. In Seneca, likely writing from exile, we further see a habit of thought that might be understood as a style of the self -- di linguaggio dell'interiorità -—a peculiar self-scrutiny which is achieved through the expression of common metaphors and bodily experiences in an idiosyncratic fashion. The princeps may be a crashing wave, but so too may Seneca be. It is the enactive analogy at the treatise’s opening and the narratives it connects throughout the treatise that makes it possible to see this. It also makes it possible to represent and study phenomena that would otherwise escape observation. I believe this example compels readers to consider enactive analogies and their various components, the knowledge derived from bodily experience they represent, and how knowledge which does not belong to the logical argument that occupies the surface of the text, but rather deliberately bypasses the resistance of the intellect, reiterate and reinforce logical clarity, 562 can be understood as a vital part of Roman literature and the history of emotion. It is arguably through enactive analogies that entrust something to someone is to “give to their hand(s)” (mandare manus); to surrender is similarly construed (dare manus). Manus or compounds derived from the word are used to describe the power a male head of household had over his wife (in manu esse), children (emancipatio) and slaves (manumissio). When a Roman citizen took a debtor to court, the process was described as “a laying upon of the hand” (manus iniectio). To lose one’s claim in court is to have one’s hand knocked-down depellere manum. See Berger 1953: 432. 562 See Armisen-Marchetti on Senecan metaphors 2015: 158. 163 emotions -- which are represented by a range of loosely connected schemas or fragments of schemas that tend to be activated together – can be made available to learning and translation processes. 563 Recognizing how efficiently and effortlessly bodies and minds think together when navigating avoidance-approach propositions thus stands to enrich our understanding of Seneca’s text, as well as make some further sense of Quintilian’s complaints about Seneca’s alluring albeit fragmented style. 563 See Reddy 2001: 94. 164 Chapter Six Second Nature in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses I am drunk with the wine of me, intoxicant of my own being, Bacchante of my own soul's steepings, Beset by the realization of me, driven by knowing. ~Muriel Strode, "Creation Songs: VII," A Soul's Faring, 1921 In this chapter we will explore the ways in which the African provincial writer, Apuleius, binds the edges of the empire to the emotional community founded at its center. It will be my contention that the stylistic features of the novel offer rich insight into the historical processes that generate and maintain social norms and values and, by extension, cultural identities. It has been said that there is no such thing as a single Apuleian style. 564 The form and features of his prose appear to depend strongly on the genre in which he happens to be writing. 565 Nevertheless, allusion is a staple for Apuleius, and has therefore long been a topic of interest for scholars, despite constant disagreement about whether terms like “echo” or “reference” are more appropriate to Apuleius’s incorporation of previous literary material. 566 A primary reason for this disagreement is because there is the sense that the effects of his allusions are not clearly obvious. 567 In an attempt to add clarity, Sarah Parker and Paul Murgatroyd suggest that Apuleius uses allusion to deliberately provide literary interest and entertainment for cultured readers, 568 while Ellen Finkelpearl accounts for the varying effects by arguing that readers should consider some allusions very deliberate and others as a function of the author’s memory and the tradition that language contains. 569 In either case, 564 Hunink 1996: 296. 565 Hunink 1996: 292. 566 Finkelpearl 1990; It is worth noting that Edwards 1992 favors parallels with the fable of Isis and Osiris, as well as the Mesopotamian story of Ereshkigal, in the tale of Cupid and Psyche. Numerous other influences on Apuleius that have been argued (beyond Plato and Ovid). (e.g.) Winkler 1985 suggests Varro (the Menippean satires). Gibson 2001 suggests Theocritus. Gowers 2001 Suggest Aulus Persius Flaccus. Dowden 2001 points not only to the Milesiae of Sisenna (whose Roman version of Aristides’s Milesian Tales we know little about – see Slater 2001: 217, but also to Lucian’s Bis Accusatus. Scobie 1975 sees Xenophon. 567 Finkelpearl 1990. 568 Parker and Murgatroyd 2002. 569 Finkelpearl 1990. 165 however, she argues that Apuleius’s use of allusion serves his desire to produce a certain effect created not so much by “playing with models” but rather by producing a certain chemistry between model and imitator. 570 To her mind, Apuleius was “an artist in control of his creation to the extent that artists are” – which means that much that is unconscious and embedded in the literary language he chooses also comes into play -- 571 resulting in the overall effect achieved by the accumulation of all variety of allusions being more than just the sum of the parts. 572 This chapter will keep Finkelpearl’s assessment of Apuleian allusion squarely in mind in order to offer a fresh perspective on Apuleius’s most well-known piece of writing: the Cupid and Psyche episode found at the center of his Metamorphoses. Scholarship on this large segment of the novel is substantial, but relatively limited in focus. Some scholars are concerned with marriage and the influence of law and ritual on the structure of the story. 573 Others key in on the character of Psyche replicating the novel’s main theme of curiosity. 574 Many hone in on the influence of Plato’s tripartite soul and the importance of vision as a means for Psyche to approach the light of truth and wisdom, so as to achieve union with the divine. 575 In this vein, Costas Panayatokis has argued that Psyche's inability to grasp the real essence of her husband's nature is due to her poorly focused vision. 576 Panayatokis bases his 570 Ibid. 571 Ibid. 572 Finkelpearl 1998: 343. Parker and Murgatroyd 2002: 401n3 remark that “it is typical of Apuleius that the literary allusion is so exuberant that at times it overshadows the message.” 573 Osgood 2006 comments on the “conspicuous and frequent” references to Roman marriage law; Papaioannou 1998 discusses the parallel function of marriage in the tale; Katz 1976 argues that the myth is structured so as to mediate sexual tension, which is resolved in the ritual of marriage; Lateiner 2000 discusses how the failure and resurrection of Cupid and Psyche’s marriage violates established patterns. 574 Sandy 1999; Parker and Murgatroid 2002n3 Kenny 1990a; DeFillipo 1990. 575 See e.g. Hooker 1955; Dowden 1982 and 1998; Kenney 1990 and 1990a; O’Brien 1998. Focus is most often on Plato’s Phaedrus and Symposium as intertexts. See esp: Tilg 2014: c.4, p.16: DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780198706830.003.0004; O’Brien 2002; Panayatokis 2001; Penwill 1975; Schlam 1970. Much attention has also been given to the topos of “the old wives’ tale.” See: Tilg 2014a, Massaro 1977, Van Mal-Maeder and Zimmerman 1998, Ziolkowski 2002, Renger 2006, and Graverini 2006; See Tilg 2014: c.4, p.17: DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780198706830.003.0004. Some suggest that the topos it is an obstacle to a philosophical reading. See e.g. Kenney 1990: 13; 22–3; Kirichenko 2008: 95. Harrison 2000: 225 reads the old woman as a parody of Diotima in the Symposium. 576 Panayatokis 2001. 166 argument on vision playing an important role in Plato's well-known account of Socrates’s discussion of the soul and its form (Phaedrus 246a ff.), in which he concludes that a soul that does not follow God, fails to gain a view of reality (Ph. 248b-c; cf. Ph. 247d-e). 577 Vision is mentioned repeatedly in the Phaedrus as the way in which the soul -- by means of the mind -- may grasp temperance and knowledge, and in fact embrace truth (Ph. 247d, 248b-c). 578 I will push back against Platonic readings by pressing into similar territory as Erich Neumann in his Amor and Psyche, wherein he reads the myth as the psychic development of the feminine resulting from Psyche’s recognition that the true essence of her femininity lies in the abandonment of herself and acceptance of her close interdependence on the male. 579 However, while I will also discuss the development of Psyche’s feminine character and the significance of Cupid in defining it, I will push back against this Jungian reading as well, 580 forwarding instead the argument that when seeing Cupid for the first time, Psyche sees herself -- not because her identity is dependent upon a male, but because Eros is an element of (esp. human) nature. In speaking broadly of human nature, however, I do not lose sight of the fact that male authors, like Apuleius, were writing in a decidedly patriarchal society and could effortlessly manipulate nature to create a “second nature,” inscribing gender with meaning. Therefore, I will not dismiss Neumann’s interpretation entirely. I will, however, not speak in the simplistic terms of gender binaries. Instead, I will situate Psyche’s loss of self in Roman culture more broadly by arguing that allusions to erotic poetry, 581 scientific texts, 582 577 Ibid. 578 Ibid. 579 Neumann 1971. 580 I will certainly not be the first to do so. E.g. Phyllis Katz 1976 argued that the significance of the story is not Psyche’s intellectual development, but in the structure of the story itself. Barrett 1994 argues that the relevant issue is instead the development of the male protagonist. Makowski 1985, who also uses a Jungian approach, focuses instead on female archetypes, marriage, and rites of passage. Too 2001: 184 thinks questions about Psyche’s identity are misguided, arguing that the significance of her identity is that it is destabilized and unassignable. 581 Finkelpearl 1998: 62-7; See Parker and Murgatroyd 2002: 401n2 for additional bibliography. 582 On Pliny is an Apuleian source see Harrison 2000: 27; 70; 102. 167 and theories of Stoic vision 583 are employed to structure her personhood. I will also provide a mini-index of passages from the Metamorphoses and the other literary works discussed in this thesis in order to elucidate the omnipresence of enactive analogies (i.e. prelinguistic historemes) in the novel and literature more generally. I will conclude with my suggestion of how cultural historians might begin to think about “second nature” and literary allusion. APULEIUS: CUPID AND PSYCHE In Chapter Two we looked at Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the bodily language associated with the avoidance-approach schema used to describe Daphne transforming into a tree at Met.1.549-50: in ramos bracchia crescunt, pes modo tam velox pigris radicibus haeret (“her arms grow up into branches, and her active feet as clinging roots fasten to the ground”), which is the same language used to describe the anguished love of Echo for Narcissus later in the text (Met.3.393). Echo’s sexual desire for Narcissus similarly “adheres” and “grows” upwards (haeret amor crescitque). The desire to escape from sex -- encapsulated by Daphne’s bodily movement -- in turn affects the conceptualization of Echo’s longing for Narcissus, which in turn effects a reconceptualization of Daphne’s experience by conflating aversion with desire through a self-reflexive network of reciprocal sympathies that illustrates the potential for bodily movement to create a dialogue for communicating norms and values. The avoidance-approach bodily schema also plays an important role in the Cupid and Psyche episode of Apuleius’s Metamorphoses, in which Apuleius’s narrator -- an elderly and most likely inebriated woman -- describes Psyche, the lover of Eros, as follows: 583 That Apuleius was aware of the Stoic theory is not in dispute. However, Apuleius’s precise understanding is debated, in no small part due to problems with the manuscript tradition of the Apology. See Hunink 1996. The influence of Stoicism on the genre of the ancient novel has long been noted (see Doulamis 2007: 152). Judith Perkins 1995: 77 attributes this to Stoic ideas “circulating in the ideological environment of the period,” citing Francis 1995: 1, who identified Stoicism as providing “a sort of philosophic koine,” with tenets that were “widely known in at least a general sort of way.” 168 …aestu pelagi simile maerendo fluctuat 584 …titubat multisque calamitatis suae distrahitur affectibus. Festinat differt, audit trepidat, diffidit irascitur; et, quod est ultimum, in eodum corpore odit bestiam, diligit maritum. (Met. 5.21) …in her grief she ebbed and flowed like the billows of the sea … she wavered irresolutely, torn apart by the many emotions raised by her dilemma. She felt haste (approach) and procrastination (avoidance), daring (approach) and fear (avoidance), despair (avoidance) and anger (approach); and worst of all, in the same body she loathed the beast but loved the husband. (Hanson 1989) 585 Apuleius’s conceptualization of Psyche’s mental activity being moved in opposite directions foreshadows the later positioning of her paradigmatic body (grabbing hold of and dangling from Cupid’s leg as he flies away: 5.24) and in so doing seems to treat in psychological terms the physical science of attraction outlined by Lucretius (4.1192-1208): nonne vides etiam quos mutua saepe voluptas vinxit, ut in vinclis communibus excrucientur? in triviis cum saepe canes, discedere aventes, divorsi cupide summis ex viribus tendunt, quom interea validis Veneris compagibus haerent. quod facerent numquam, nisi mutua gaudia nossent, quae lacere in fraudem possent vinctosque tenere. Do you not see also, when mutual pleasure has enchained a pair, how they are often tormented in their common chains? For often dogs at the crossways, desiring to part, pull hard in different directions with all their strength, when all the while they are held fast in the strong couplings of Venus. But this they would never do, unless they both felt these joys which were enough to lure them into the trap and to hold them enchained. 586 Seeking a pleasurable bond while straining against it engages with the same epistemological paradigm in which Daphne and Echo are enmeshed. 587 584 Echoes Pacuvius (De orat. 3.157); See also Met. 8.479-4 (Althaea); Her. 21.41-2 (Cydippe). Am. 2.10.9-10. 585 On anger as approach oriented see e.g. Harmon-Jones et al. 2008. 586 Rouse and Smith 1992. 587 This passage is one of many which address female pleasure during intercourse (e.g.: Hesiod fr. 275; Ovid Met. 3.316-38; Hipp. On the Seed 4; Aristotle GA 727b9-10, 727b35-36, 728a9-11, 739a29-35; Galen On the Seed 2.1). For more complete list of passages see Halperin 1990: 270n46; n47. 169 What I have suggested and will now continue to suggest is that we must consider the role of bodily movement and positioning in ancient texts in order to understand the ways in which systemic and pervasive cultural structures are enacted and reproduced through individual acts and practices. The transhistorical body actively constructs various facets of identity, including gender, through specific corporeal acts, and provides a means of situating ostensibly personal situations in a broader cultural context. 588 The simple positioning of the female body in relation to various male figures in fact demonstrates that female emotional experience, insofar as we can identify it in male-authored texts, is an historical situation that develops through the constant engagement of that body in certain cultural and historical possibilities that are continually realized. 589 Moving forward, we will thus pay attention to the patterns of position and expressions of bodily knowledge that coalesce around the avoidance- approach schema and, more importantly, to the properties of authority that emerge from them. 590 Of first note is that it is with the bidirectionality of the avoidance-approach paradigm engaged that Psyche visually perceives Cupid for the first time (Met. 5.22): videt capitis aurei genialem caesariem ambrosia temulentam, cervices lacteas genasque purpureas pererrantes crinium globos decoriter impeditos, alios antependulos, alios retropendulos, quorum splendore nimio fulgurante iam et ipsum lumen lucernae vacillabat: per numeros volatilis dei pinnae roscidae micanti flore candicant et quamvis alis quiescentibus extimae plumulae tenellae ac delicatae tremule resultantes inquieta lasciviunt. On his golden head she saw glorious hair drunk on ambrosia: wandering over his milky neck and rosy cheeks were the neatly shackled ringlets of his locks, some prettily swaying in front, others swaying behind; the lightning of their great brilliance made the lamp’s light flicker. Along the shoulders of the winged god white feathers glistened like flowers in the morning dew; and although his wings 588 See Butler 1997. 589 See Merleau-Ponty 1962; de Beauvoir 1974; Butler 1997. 590 This differs from but is not incompatible with (e.g.) Keulen’s 2007: 107 suggestion that the activity of the reader of the Metamorphoses’s Prologue is performative, because the reader assumes the persona of the narrating voice – becoming the ego – triggering an active, physical enactment of rhetorical experience and practice. The Metamorphoses plays on the instability of identity that exists between author, narrator, and reader (Rimmel 2007: ix), I am simply adding the performative aspect of narrated figures, which is arguably an element of what binds author, narrator and reader together. 170 were at rest, soft and delicate little plumes along their edges quivered restlessly in wanton play. 591 While it would be simple and even valid enough to read the passage and the rebuke of Psyche that follows it as the censure of the female appropriation of a masculine subject position – that is, acting as subject rather than object of the gaze – I think there is more going on here. Note that the tottering back and forth (titubat) of Psyche’s mind is transmuted into Cupid’s appearance: pererrantes, antependulos, retropendulos, vacillabat. Perrerantes and (lumen lucernae) vacillabat extend to the language of mistake making and the disorderly “movement” associated with it. 592 With this transmogrification of mental state into a viewable object, Psyche essentially self-objectivizes, taking a third person perspective on her internal experience. By transmuting a subjective experience into the objective world – making it visible -- Apuleius demonstrates his authority over the subject at hand, which becomes quite clear in the description of Cupid’s wings which, when taken together with temulentam, is deeply reminiscent of Ovidian didacticism: Vinaque cum bibulas sparsere Cupidinis alas, Permanet et capto stat gravis ille loco. Ille quidem pennas velociter excutit udas: Sed tamen et spargi pectus amore nocet. Vina parant animos faciuntque caloribus aptos: Cura fugit multo diluiturque mero. Tunc veniunt risus, tum pauper cornua sumit, Tum dolor et curae rugaque frontis abit. Tunc aperit mentes aevo rarissima nostro Simplicitas, artes excutiente deo. Illic saepe animos iuvenum rapuere puellae, Et Venus in vinis ignis in igne fuit. Hic tu fallaci nimium ne crede lucernae: Iudicio formae noxque merumque nocent. (Ars Amatoria 1.233-46) 591 Translation adapted from J.A. Hanson 1989. 592 See Short 2013a. 171 And when wine has sprinkled Cupid’s thirsty wings, He abides and stands overburdened, where he has taken his place. He indeed quickly shakes out his dripping plumes; Yet it hurts even to be sprinkled on the breast with love. Wine fashions minds apt for passions: Care flees and is drowned in much wine. Then laughter comes and even the poor find vigour, Then sorrow and care and the wrinkles of the brow depart. Then simplicity, most rare in our age, lays bare the mind, With the god shaking off knowledge. At such time often have women bewitched the minds of men, And Venus in the wine has been fire in fire. Do not overly trust the treacherous lamp at such a time; Darkness and drink impair your judgment of beauty. 593 Cupid’s wings are synonymous with the internal seat of affection (sparsere Cupidinis alas…spargi pectus), a conceptualization of attraction that may go back to Plato’s winged soul in the Phaedrus (251a-c). When the soul sprouts feathers at the sight of beauty, Plato says, there is a shivering and something of fear (πρῶτον μὲν ἔφριξε καί τι τῶν τότε ὑπῆλθεν αὐτὸν δειμάτων), which likely descends from a similar psychosomatic experience as that which informs the Aeschylean notion of δεῖμα fluttering around the heart (Ag.975-77). The release of adrenaline is common to both fear and sexual arousal, as is an increased or “fluttering” heartrate. Intense emotion could indeed cause one’s heart to beat in such a way as to seem as though a bird’s wings were beating inside one’s chest. 594 In Ovid we have a similar enaction of the heart “fluttering” (pennas velociter excutit udas …artes excutiente deo), which represents an interoceptive metaphor: the heart flutters in the chest like wet wings. Engagement with the metaphor models Psyche after Ovid’s inebriated would-be lover, whose mind is like hers: multiform (vina parant animos faciuntque caloribus aptos), and subject to perception that is not to be trusted (hic tu fallaci nimium ne crede lucernae). 593 Translation adapted from J.H. Mozley 2004. 594 See Habinek 2005: 161, who illustrates the widespread tendency on the part of humans to assimilate their activity to that of other animate creatures, with particular significance in the ancient world being attributed to birds. 172 Apuleius thus incorporates male “expertise” into psychosomatic experience, codes the knowledge as feminine, and thereby reifies his subject and her circumstances. Initially dominant, like the female rulers of elegy, Psyche ultimately comes to resemble the passive elegist, who is subject to the torments of abandonment. 595 This suggests that Apuleius constructs female identity in accordance with an authoritative work which centers on internal masculine experience. Ovid’s drunken male pupil is thus woven into Apuleius’s Psyche – whether consciously or unconsciously -- whose externalization of internal experience ultimately denies her an internal locus of control. 596 The externalization of the interoceptive metaphor evokes the body as a viewable object that is subject to judgement. This effect is heightened by the inebriated body-as- metaphor. In his description of Cupid’s appearance, Apuleius, who himself crafts invective around the common connection made between wine and sex when telling of the cruel and licentious Miller’s wife (Met.9.14), invokes the language of Pliny’s quasi-scientific description of the drunken body in NH.14.28.142: 597 hinc pallor et genae pendulae, oculorum ulcera, tremulae manus effundentes plena vasa quae sit poena praesens furiales somni et inquies nocturna praemiumque, summum ebrietatis libido portentosa ac iucundum nefas. Tippling brings a pale face and hanging cheeks, sore eyes, shaky hands that spill the contents of vessels when they are full, the condign punishment of haunted sleep and restless nights, and the crowning reward of drunkenness: monstrous lust and forbidden delights. 598 595 See Gold 2012. 596 Devereaux 2018. 597 Devereaux 2018. 598 Translation adapted from H. Rackham 1968. 173 Pliny Apuleius pendulae antependulos; retropendulos tremulae tremule inquies inquieta ebrietatus temulentam iucundum nefas lasciviunt The seemingly artistic play of referring to Cupid’s hair as ‘drunk’ quietly interjects that Psyche’s mental state is unhealthy. Suggestive of this are the playful feathers on Cupid’s wings, which seem to mirror the ‘wicked thoughts’ (iucundum nefas/lasciviunt) of their viewer. Underlining the externalization of female interiority is the coherence the scene has to Stoic conceptualizations of vision (for Apuleius’s familiarity see (e.g.) Ap. 15.33). According to the Stoics, vision involves the mind (ἡγεμονικόν) being imprinted or reconfigured through unbroken physical contact with an external object. The Stoic mind is like an octopus, each sense a tentacle grasping the external world, reshaping itself and the world accordingly. Vision is a physical connection between seer and seen, operating – with the usual Stoic fondness for paradox – like the walking stick of a blind man, through two-way transmittal of tensile motion. Mind and world communicate as if along the threads of a spiderweb. 599 It is indeed the schemas that surround the avoidance-approach paradigm that communicate a large sum of information, not the least of which being that the passage accommodates the Stoic worldview that “we gradually align ourselves with material reality to the extent that we and it become indistinguishable.” 600 There is thus suggestion that Apuleius is also performing Plinian knowledge. Both Pliny and Apuleius use the overlapping terms in a physical description of a very particular state of being, with Cupid’s naughty feathers nodding to the moral authority of the Plinian passage, and a Stoic inflection triggering a blend of Psyche’s 599 Habinek 2011: 64-65. 600 Habinek 2011: 71. 174 perception with the drunken body. 601 Add to this that the narrator who acts as a vehicle for Apuleius’s performance is a drunken female (see Met 4.7) who thus embodies the character she describes, and we see that only an intercorporeal understanding of the text allows readers to contemplate the fullness of Apuleian expression, which demonstrates the value of paying attention to prelinguistic affective scaffolding and the mutual resonance of bodies across texts and contexts. 602 We can now see that the semantics of the transhistorical body-as-metaphor identify the avoidance-approach paradigm at work structuring the Cupid and Psyche episode, which has enabled us to situate it within a particularized cluster of knowledge pertaining to the Roman social world and the emotional regime underpinning it -- from Lucretius’s paradigmatic discussion of sex and Pliny’s physical description of drunkenness to Ovid’s interoceptive wings and the Stoic notion of vision as a mutually constitutive process. This last item in particular helps us to identify more than the standardly observed Platonic influences in the novel. Psyche’s experience can be explained with Stoicism rather than Platonism. And while I agree with Erich Neumann that we witness the psychic development of the feminine in this scene, insofar as Psyche discovers herself in what she sees, I do not agree that it is because her identity is dependent on the male in any other way than it is dependent upon the displacement of masculine experience by the author, who externalizes the feeling associated with Eros into the natural world by way of enactive analogy. This is not the same thing as Neumann suggests, namely that Psyche “abandons herself” out of dependence upon a masculine figure. The nature Psyche discovers, which the allusion to Book One of the Ars Amatoria suggests, is not uniquely feminine, but is transformed into such by our male author, 601 Seneca, in addition to regularly associating drunkenness and lust (e.g. Ep. 47.7, 59.11), writes at length (Ep.83.16) about wine causing the revelation of secrets and inner life. In particular, it reveals otherwise hidden vices, like lust. 602 Devereaux 2018. My reading is in line with the understanding of the text as “a pastiche of cultural, and specifically textual, antecedents” which “confronts its reader with a multiplicity of cultural influences” (see Too 2001: 178. 175 who is responding to and perpetuating the “second nature” of the culture in which he was operating – a culture that habitually externalized internal physical and emotional experience into the visible world, where it can become an object of study. A male perspective on female experience is visible in other ways. The Apuleius passage is noticeably inflected in a quantifiable way. Emphasis is placed on downward movement in the description of Psyche’s psychosomatic experience at the beginning of the passage (deterrita, defecta, desedit, delapsum, defecta). At vero Psyche tanto aspectu deterrita et impos animi, marcido pallore defecta tremensque desedit in imos poplites et ferrum quaerit abscondere, sed in suo pectore: quod profecto fecisset, nisi ferrum timore tanti flagitii manibus temerariis delapsum evolasset. Iamque lassa, salute defecta, dum saepius divini vultus intuetur pulchritudinem, recreatur animi. (Met. 5.22) But Psyche was terrified at this marvellous sight and put out of her mind; overcome with the pallor of exhaustion she sank faint and trembling to her knees. She tried to hide the weapon – in her own heart. And she would certainly have done so, had not the blade slipped down and flown away from her reckless hands in its horror of so atrocious a deed. She was now weary and overcome by the sense of being safe, but as she gazed repeatedly at the beauty of that divine countenance her spirit began to revive. 603 As already discussed, in Latin, as in other languages, movement that is downward, frequently expressed by the prefix de-, carries a negative force in many conceptualizations, which can be understood to reflect a link between affective judgments and physical metaphors. 604 Bodily knowledge that “down is bad,” which derives from early bodily experiences like falling down, is captured by the iterated prefix, generating an opportunity for audiences to intuitively collectivize their evaluative response to the narrative. Here, the response that is encouraged is imparted by the prefix de-, which in addition to downward movement also denotes movement away. Abscondere, too, plays on the iteration of the de- prefix, helping not only to create an opportunity for collective sentiment to unfold over time, but also to provide a structure for 603 Translation by J. A. Hanson 1989. 604 See Lakoff and Johnson 1999. 176 that sentiment by way of the avoidance-approach paradigm, which is punctuated by Psyche, whose body ends up in exaggerated avoidance-approach position (dangling from the leg of Cupid), ultimately falling down and away (5.24: delabitur solo). Such negative judgment of metaphorical drunkenness is consistent with male perceptions of female behavior in the Roman world. Authors frequently tell their readers that excessive wine-drinking on the part of women is associated with adultery. 605 Apuleius himself, drawing on a long-standing association between wine, adultery, and murder by poisoning, 606 crafts invective around the connection between wine and sex when telling of the Miller’s wife (Met.9.14), a cruel and licentious woman who killed her husband with witchcraft. Such associations also underpin Valerius Maximus’s telling of Egnatius Mecennius, who, without criticism, beat his own wife to death with a club for drinking, on which Maximus remarks (6.3.9): et sane quaecumque femina vini usum immoderate appetit, omnibus et virtutibus ianuam claudit et delictis aperit (“and surely it is the case that any female who drinks wine without moderation closes the door to every virtue and opens it to every vice”). 607 The imperilment of virtue by way of wine also led Augustus, when he exiled his daughter, Julia, first to Pandateria and then to Rhegium, to deny her wine and the ability to see any man without his permission. 608 Even in a ritual context, drinking was thought to remove women from their proper role and behaviors (See e.g. AUC 39.8.5-8). Attendant to the observation of externalized emotion is the authoritative judgment defined by “mental movements” (motus animi) that are downward and away. 605 See Edwards 1993, who cites examples from Dion.Hal.2.25.5-7; Val.Max.2.1.5; Gel.10.23. 606 See Bauman 1992. 607 See also Pliny NH 14.89. 608 Bauman 1992. 177 CATULLUS: A COMPARATIVE MODEL With the above understanding of how sentiment is embedded into the Cupid and Psyche narrative and its role in qualifying emergent authority in mind, let’s now turn to a comparative model. We find the love-is-drunkenness embodied metaphor directly represented by Catullus, who uses the term pueri ebrii ocelli (45.11): 609 Acmen Septimius suos amores tenens in gremio “mea,” inquit, “Acme, ni te perdite amo atque amare porro omnes sum adsidue paratus annos, quantum qui pote plurimum perire, solus in Libya Indiave tosta caesio veniam obvius leoni.” hoc ut dixit, Amor sinistra ut ante dextra sternuit adprobationem. at Acme leviter caput reflectens et dulcis pueri ebrios ocellos illo purpureo ore suaviata “sic,” inquit, “mea vita, Septimille, huic uni domino usque serviamus, ut multo mihi maior acriorque ignis mollibus ardet in medullis.” hoc ut dixit, Amor sinistra ut ante dextra sternuit adprobationem. nunc ab auspicio bono profecti mutuis animis amant amantur. unam Septimius misellus Acmen mavult quam Syrias Britanniasque: uno in Septimio fidelis Acme facit delicias libidinesque. quis ullos homines beatiores vidit, quis Venerem auspicatiorem? Holding his girlfriend Acme close upon his lap, Septimius said: “My darling Acme, if I don’t love you madly, if I’m not quite, quite resolved to be constant all my lifetime, insurpassably, desperately devoted, in far Libya or burning India may I meet up, solo, with a green-eyed lion!” At these words, Love leftward as beforehand 609 This is an appropriate text for comparison with prose fiction because it is one of only two poems in the entire corpus which "are detached from the immediate concerns of [the poet's] daily life" and is one of the few Catullan poems that are "ideal or purely fanciful poems . . . which have no basis in reality." See Newton 1996. 178 rightward sneezed his approbation. Then sweet Acme, gently tilting back her head and with those rich red lips bestowing kisses on her darling boy’s besotted eyes, said: “Thus, Septimius, thus, my life, my precious, may we serve this single lord forever, while more strongly and fiercely day by day this hot flame blazes through my melting marrow.” At these words, Love leftward as beforehand rightward sneezed his approbation. Now from this auspicious omen setting out, they give and receive true love with equal passion. Poor Septimius now rates Acme over all the hoopla of Syria and Britain; with Septimius only, faithful Acme runs the gamut of all delights and pleasures. Who, pray, ever saw two or more triumphant lovers, who a Venus more auspicious? 610 Here, sinistra and dextra engage the bi-directional movement associated with the avoidance- approach schema, with motion toward emphasized by (ad)probatio. Beyond this minor engagement with the schema, no other element of the gestalt found in Apuleius is engaged. Catullus’s inebriation metaphor instead engages with the social-warmth schema (tosta … ignis … ardet … amant amantur). The social-warmth schema accounts for why a modern reader might describe a close relationship as “warm,” or a sexually appealing person as “hot.” Physical proximity modulates bodily temperature – (physical) proximity “is” (social) closeness, and closeness enables the perception of (bodily-as-social) warmth. Heat as an element of sexual attraction, which is clearly relevant in Catullus, derives from the social- warmth bodily schema. 611 So the love-as-drunkenness metaphor, when applied to male emotional experience by Catullus, is associated with social warmth and movement toward, while it is incorporated by Apuleius to identify female emotional experience with bodily instability and movement away and down. 610 Green 2005. 611 For interest see Williams, Huang, and Bargh 2008. 179 We can visualize the schematic distribution of bodily knowledge in the texts through a simple representation of the data, which can be generated through straightforward analysis. That is to say: we can count the words that fall into the same category of conceptual metaphor within a given block of text. In the chart below, words that engage with the metaphor “love is inebriation” in terms of bodily experience (interoceptive and proprioceptive), spatialized affect (toward, away, down) and the embodied social concept of “warmth” are counted. Engagement with these schemas is represented in terms of approximate percentages, with the first and last schematic lexeme marking the text on either side of the text being counted, from which pronouns, determiners and conjunctions are excluded (total words: Catullus: 36 / Ovid: 59 / Apuleius 5.22: 78). This can of course be done by the expert reader. For this chapter, however, I had the help of TACIT, a text analysis, crawling and interpretive tool developed by the University of Southern California’s Computational Social Sciences Laboratory, which was quickly able to locate the conceptual overlaps that occur in the texts. The reader should thus note that this limited case study is strictly for illustration and is not meant to be definitive. These passages were selected for their marked similarities or differences in terms of schematic content. I am not suggesting they have a priority among passages that explicitly or implicitly associate love with drunkenness, merely that they illustrate similarities and differences well, and therefore provide a useful illustration of schematic textual features and how they might be interpreted. 612 612 We find associations between love and inebriation on the republican stage (Pl. Aul. 4.10.19-21: excusemus ebrios nos fecisse amoris causa. nimis vilest vinum atque amor, si ebrio atque amanti impune facere quod lubeat licet (“let us excuse ourselves, that we did it when intoxicated, by reason of being in love. Too cheap are wine and love, if one in liquor and in love is allowed to do with impunity whatever he pleases”)). We find it in philosophy (Sen.Ep.105.6: ebrietas aut amor secreta producit (“both intoxication and love draw secrets from us”)). We also see it in imperial theatre (Medea 69), when Hymen, the god of marriage, is characterized as walking with a drunken step (gradu ebrio). See also Servius’s gloss of Dido’s bibebat amorem (Verg. Aen.1.749) with reference to a sympotic fragment of Anacreon. On TACIT see Dehghani et al. 2017. 180 Catullus | Ovid | Apuleius Bodily Experience Social Warmth Spatial Affect ebrios tosta ad-probationem alas ignis ad-probationem pennas udas ardet de-territa velociter excutiente caloribus de-fecta pectus ignis de-sedit diluitur igne ab-scondere excutiente de-lapsum tremens de-fecta pectore temulentam pererrantes antependulos retropendulos vacillabat pinnae alis micanti plumelae tremule inquieta lasciviunt This graphic representation of schematic content, by visualizing social concepts and values in terms of the bodily experiences underpinning the texts, helps to illustrate how enactive analogies operate in literature. That is to say, the chart demonstrates that bodily schemas generate expressions of value that scaffold the propositional content of the texts. The emotion 0.00% 5.00% 10.00% 15.00% 20.00% 25.00% 30.00% Catullus Ovid Apuleius Love as Inebriation bodily experience social warmth spatial affect 181 associated with the inebriation metaphor for Ovid’s male audience was an internal experience rather than an externalized one. Spatial affect is absent for Ovid’s male subject, and emphasized for the self-objectifying female. Social warmth is present in both narratives that engage the metaphor in the context of male emotional experience, but it is absent in the narrative that engages the metaphor to construct female emotional experience. 613 Love-as- drunkenness was not constructed as a universal experience, but rather as a gendered one. 614 We can see also in a passage from Paris’s letter to Helen in the Heroides, in which we find a partial line (232) also present in the Ars Amatoria passage discussed above, 615 that Paris speaks of love and being drunk in a way that coheres with the points made here. He begins his central lament by describing how envious he is of the social warmth that exists between Menelaus and Helen: rumpor invidia … membra superiecta cum tua veste fovet (“I burst with envy … when he lays his mantle over your limbs to keep you warm”). 616 He responds to this feeling of jealousy by lifting up his cup (pocula sumpta) and casting down his eyes (lumina demitto), 617 which constitutes a verticalized, minimal representation of the avoidance-approach schema (cf. minimal dextra/sinestra engagement in Catullus above). He then writes: saepe mero volui flammam compescere, at illa crevit, et ebrietas ignis in igne fuit … revocas oculos … (Her. 16.231-34) 613 I considered whether or not to include lumen and/or lucerna as metonymies that could fit into the social- warmth schema, and ultimately decided against it at this stage. If one were to include either term, then there would seem to be an element of social warmth in the Cupid and Psyche episode, but because Cupid is physically injured by hot oil from the lamp – a manmade object -- the association would not appear to be with social warmth in the positive sense for which I measured. Because light is not generally associated with temperature, and because heat as an element of metaphor and analogy is not limited to expressions of social closeness, and because the introduction of man-made objects raises a host of questions beyond the scope of this chapter, I excluded both terms from the schema count at this time. 614 For an argument regarding the importance of recognising gender as a basic component in making any interpretation of Psyche see Haskins 2014. Haskins focuses on the importance of contrasting male and female (as animal) experience. I don’t assume the perspective she takes, but am sympathetic to her point that gender cannot be ignored when analyzing the text. 615 This letter has a problematic manuscript tradition. However, the greatest issues revolve around lines 39-144. See Heyworth 2016, who makes no mention of this line, for history of scholarship and current state of the discussion. 616 Her. 16.223-224 617 Her. 16.226.227 182 Oft I would have quenched the flame of love with wine, but it grew instead, and drinking was but fire upon fire … you recall my eyes again … His inebriated gaze echoes both Catullus’s ebrii oculi and, of course, the Ars: et Venus in vinis ignis in igne fuit. hic tu fallaci nimium ne crede lucernae: iudicio formae noxque merumque nocent. Fittingly, given that it is drink that leads Paris to give his feelings away, Helen writes of him literally externalizing his intimate feelings to her by way of wine: orbe in mensae…mero littera fecit, AMO. 618 As in the Ars, there is no +/- spatial affect, and there is similar engagement with the avoidance-approach schema to that we find in Catullus. The level of engagement with both features that we find with Psyche stands out. Each narrative is thus particular and the same, with the most pronounced differences resulting, it would seem, from conceptualizations of emotional experience as a gendered construct, despite the reliance on masculine experience to observe and study female emotion. Socially structured understandings of subjective experience thus emerge from the body itself, providing something along the lines of what Pierre Bourdieu called le sens du jeu – a feel for the game. At this level of pre-linguistic expression, we can both more deeply appreciate the ways in which ideology and identity, as well as topic and genre, interact in ancient literature, and begin to interrogate the role bodily schemas might have in (re)producing sentiment and culture. 619 TOWARD A PHILOSOPHY OF READING As Piaget consistently acknowledges, all learning is an active process. 620 Reading has thus been identified as an activity best defined as “a process of confrontation between an 618 Drunkenness was long thought by the Stoics to cause what lies beneath to become visible. The drunk cannot keep secrets and ends up disclosing all vice. Drunkenness does not create vice, it brings it into view (lust is one example of many such vices). See Sen. Ep. 83.16. 619 Devereaux 2018. 620 Piaget 1970. 183 individual and a text” that is similar to the way in which humans confront all reality. 621 That is to say, neural reuse allows readers to learn in much the same way they do as when engaging with the physical world. 622 We unconsciously use our bodies to understand, respond to, and mimic what we encounter on the page and, in this way, literature creates a second nature. 623 This “second nature” is intensely political, gendered, and spatially articulated in many obvious and less obvious ways. It should not be thought of as an abstract, disembodied construct. It is imperative that we acknowledge the important role of the body in the construction and interpretation of not only physical but also social realities, those that are encountered in the world and those that are encountered on the page – and the distinction is often less pronounced than one might imagine. 624 I have demonstrated throughout this thesis how the distinction between internal and external worlds is blurred, and how social concepts are activated through the resultant cognitive as narrative scaffolding that hovers in the background rather than being at the center of attention. In passages like the opening of De ira and the Cupid and Psyche episode in the Metamorphoses, we can clearly see that reading with attention to intercorporeality is a process that resembles Wittgenstein’s description of performing philosophy: It is “like trying to open a safe with a combination lock: each little adjustment of the dials seems to achieve nothing, only when everything is in place does the door open.” 625 Or to put it otherwise: “Whether a jigsaw puzzle has been solved or not is not told by examining the pieces one by one, but by whether you can pick up the whole interlocked puzzle as one.” 626 While one can object to claims of intertextuality or influence, one would be hard pressed to deny interlocking commonalities. One would be even harder pressed to suggest the coherence 621 Craig 1984. 622 See Armstrong 2013. 623 See Habinek 2005: 162; 195. 624 See Devereaux 2016. 625 Millikan 2017: 10 quoting Wittgenstein. 626 Millikan 2017: 9. 184 provided by such structures is inconsequential. And what is the point of such objection? Is it in any way useful or intellectually rigorous to ignore the transhistorical body because it somehow “universalizes” the text? Or, as one scholar at a conference last winter suggested, “closes off other readings of the text?” Such objections demonstrate a lack of intellectual curiosity. The very definition of hermeneutics is, after all, “the recognition of patterns, and a pattern is a reciprocal construction of an overall order and its constituent parts, the overarching arrangement making sense of the details by their relation to one another, even as their configuration only emerges as its parts fit together,” 627 and embodiment theories provide stable, scientifically grounded ways of recognizing and analyzing such patterns. To deny the role of the body and its thoroughly consistent way of being in the world (i.e. subject to the forces of physics, oriented in such a way that “up” and “down” are meaningful designations, having hearts that beat and push blood through vessels), is to falsely deny its role in generating and sustaining patterns and thereby our ability to analyze texts as human artifacts. Moreover, one must ask, how is it useful to the discipline to fail to limit the readings of a text? Are we to better understand ancient cultures and the written artifacts they produced if we deny that some limits on interpretation are simply responsible? My method merely limits readings of the texts to those which take into account the body-brain organisms who produced and receive them. For, while it is true that what we perceive is a reflection of who we are, 628 who we are -- despite whatever differences between us and the cultures we study exist -- are embodied beings. Therefore, objections to literary and cultural historians acknowledging the fundamental role of the body in meaning-making does a disservice to both the texts and those wishing to better understand them as consequential elements of human history. 627 Armstrong 2013: 54. 628 Habinek 2005: 195. See also Zimmerman 2001: 254-5. 185 So, although the degree to which Apuleius consciously recognized his influences, or assumed knowledge on the part of his readers of the material he seemingly draws upon, are vexed questions, it is, I should think, reasonable to expect, given the popularity of Stoicism, as well as the volume of discussion about inebriation in the ancient world, that many readers of both genders would have recognized his expert provision of le sens du jeu. 629 But, even if they didn’t – which we cannot know – it is still of value to identify the presence of these various bodies of knowledge, all of which are structured around the body, on the structure of the text. It is of value because it provides insight into emotional regimes and the practices that supported them. The enacted analogy developed through the amor-as-drunken-body metaphor, for example, demonstrates how, by expanding upon Cognitive Metaphor Theory, we can observe the transhistorical body (re)create culture through the scaffolding of affect and knowledge about the self and others. It provides readers with a full-bodied account of how a segment of text conveys meaning, showing that the body-as-metaphor is essential to Roman processes of figuration, which, like our own, were intercorporeal. Attention to intercorporeality can thus complement any number of other ways of analyzing texts. 630 It provides a model for organizing knowledge that is structured around the body, saving us from reducing passages like these to decorative metaphors, conventional language, literary practices, etc., failing all the while to recognize the significant role of the body in socially structuring the cognitive unconscious, which we inhabit from within our own embodied readerly context. 631 629 See Bowditch 2005: 283. 630 See (e.g.) Fowler 2001 who holds that readers are invited to participate in the action and raw experience contained in the text. 631 Devereaux 2018. 186 ALLUSIONS, INTERTEXTS, OR SECOND NATURE? The central scene of the Cupid and Psyche tale beautifully illuminates a complex of bodily representations of cultural norms and values with seemingly obvious connections to prior works. 632 But it should not go without notice that many of the schemas I have discussed in previous chapters also pepper the Metamorphoses with no obvious indication of allusion or intertextuality. For example, the trembling sky and bristling waves of the Pacuvian sea (see ch.2) are metonymized into Jove – the sky god – and transferred to the rapids of rivers: …inhorrescit mare, tenebrae conduplicantur, noctisque et nimbum occaecat nigror, flamma inter nubis coruscat, caelum tonitru contremit, grando mixta imbri largifluo subita praecipitans cadit, undique omnes venti erumpunt, saevi exsistunt turbines, fervit aestu pelagus… (De Orat. 3.157) “…a shivering takes the sea Darkness is doubled, and the murk of night And stormclouds blinds the sight, flame ‘mid the clouds Quivers, the heavens shudder with thunderclaps, A sudden hail with bounteous rain commingled Falls headlong, all the winds from every quarter Burst forth, and savage whirlwinds rise; the sea Surges and boils…” 633 “Montis in excelsi scopulo, rex, siste puellam ornatam mundo funerei thalami. Nec speres generum mortali stirpe creatum, sed saevum atque ferum vipereumque malum, quod pinnis volitans super aethera cuncta fatigat flammaque et ferro singula debilitat, quod tremit ipse Iovis, quo numina terrificantur, fluminaque horrescunt et Stygiae tenebrae.” (Met. 4.33) “Set out thy daughter, king, on a lofty mountain crag, decked out in finery for a funeral wedding Hope not for a son-in-law born of mortal stock But a cruel and wild and snaky monster that flies on wings above the ether and vexes all, and harries the world with fire and sword, 632 See Schlam 1992: 5: Among the pleasures the novel offers “is the reinforcement of moral, philosophic, and religious values shared by the author and his audience.” 633 Rackham 1942. 187 makes Jove himself quake and the gods tremble, and rivers shudder and the shades of Styx.” 634 Given that the cause of the Trojan war, from which the seamen of Pacuvius were returning, was the mutual desire of Menelaus and Paris for Helen, I don’t think it’s surprising that we find the same bodily grounding in a description of Eros in Apuleius. But I would not suggest this is an intentional allusion to the Pacuvian passage quoted by Cicero. Rather, it seems more likely that the embodied experience common to both passages is that which is associated with a sense of powerlessness and the lack of control one has over natural forces. In Met 5.4, we find another potentially allusive example that is not as easy to classify: Tunc virginitate suae pro tanta solitudine metuens et pavet et horrescit et quovis malo plus timet quod ignorat. Now being all alone she feared for her virginity. She trembles and shudders and fears worse than anything the things she is ignorant of. Here we see shades of Horace: Vitas hinnuleo me similis, Chloe, quaerenti pavidam montibus aviis matrem non sine vano aurarum et siluae metu. nam seu mobilibus veris inhorruit adventus foliis seu virides rubum dimovere lacertae, et corde et genibus tremit. atqui non ego te tigris ut aspera Gaetulusve leo frangere persequor: tandem desine matrem tempestiva sequi viro. (Od. 1.23) You avoid me like a deer, Chloe, seeking its trembling mother in the trackless mountains not without an empty fear of the winds and the forest. For whether the arrival of spring quivered with shifting leaves, or green lizards moved a bramble, it trembles with both its heart and its knees. But yet I do not pursue you to break you 634 Hanson 1989. 188 like a cruel tiger or Gaetulian lion: Cease to follow your mother, at last you are ready for a man. The identical nature of the circumstances involved make allusion seem possible, but it is equally if not more likely that this bodily conceptualization of female emotional experience was unconsciously produced. Look also at Ovid’s description of Boreas and Orithyia (Met. 6.702-707): Haec Boreas aut his non inferiora locutus excussit pennas: quarum iactatibus omnis adflata est tellus latumque perhorruit aequor. Pulvereamque trahens per summa cacumina pallam verrit humum pavidamque metu caligine tectus Orithyian amans fulvis amplectitur alis. And now impetuous Boreas, having howled resounding words, unrolled his rustling wings which fan the earth and ruffle the wide sea. Swiftly he wrapped untrod mountain peaks in whirling mantles of far-woven dust and moved downward to the darkened world and, concealed in the artificial night of dark overshadowing wings he caught up the trembling Orithyia to his breast. 635 In another scene involving the loss of virginity (through forced marriage), we see the same enactive analogy from Horace at work, with the external world mirrored by the human body: the ruffled waters caused by male desires (excussit pennas) 636 are transmogrified into trembling female flesh. One also cannot help but notice that Boreas is given terrible wings that symbolically and anatomically align him with Eros. This could be a complex allusion or a reflection of the cognitive unconscious. As Finkelpearl suggests, one should consider some allusions very deliberate and others as a function of the author’s memory and the tradition that language contains. 637 In a case like this, where the Apuleian expression is so 635 Translation adapted from Brooks Moore 1922. 636 N.b. similarity to Ars. 1.235. 637 Finkelpearl 1990. 189 compressed, it is hard to say with certainty how conscious the author was of previous models. What is clear, however, is that trembling as a constitutive aspect of both cause and effect represents the conceptualization of virginal sex by Roman poets, and the same cluster of grounded language used to express this idea in poetry finds its way into prose. 638 And then there are some instances that make it quite hard to ignore previous models as models. For example, not unlike the enemy soldiers in Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus (see ch.3), who were struck by fear (metu attonitus), Charite is struck by fear as if by a thunderclap (Met. 8.8): Charite vocem nefandam et horruit et detestata est et, velut gravi tonitru procellaque sideris vel etiam ipso diali fulmine percussa, corruit corpus et obnubilavit animam. Charite shuddered in abomination at his unspeakable words; as if she had been struck by a massive thunderclap or sun-stroke or Jove’s own lightning bolt, her body collapsed and her mind clouded over. This seems to represent nothing more than a common metaphor grounded in the startle reflex. However, if we look closer, we again find Pacuvius: …inhorrescit mare, tenebrae conduplicantur, noctisque et nimbum occaecat nigror, flamma inter nubis coruscat, caelum tonitru contremit, grando mixta imbri largifluo subita praecipitans cadit… Charite vocem nefandam et horruit et detestata est et, velut gravi tonitru procellaque sideris vel etiam ipso diali fulmine percussa, corruit corpus et obnubilavit animam. Like the sea, she shudders; like the sky, her mind grows dark; like the rain and hail, her body falls swiftly down. Lightning and thunder are present in both passages. The enactive analogy 638 There is wide recognition that poetic elements figure prominently in the Metamorphoses and that there is a consistent embedding of poetic diction and allusion that is fundamental to the prose of the Apuleian novel (see Edwards 2013: 39). Historically, this has been deemed the mark of post-classical Latin, with some arguing that Apuleius’s highly poetic prose marks the beginnings of “Late Latin.” Others disagree, including Edwards, who point to the similarities that exist between Apuleius and Tacitus, who also uses poetic language, and argue for a more positive approach toward the use of poetic allusion in the service of purposeful intertextuality. I draw attention to a variety of allusions and cultural artifacts which have not been commented on before, so I do believe I am answering Edwards’s call for the “creative analysis of interaction with verse genres in the ancient novel” (p.56). 190 that Pacuvius provided to express the bodily experience of certain kinds of fear (in men), as we saw also in Ovid’s Met. 11.550: tanta vertigine pontus fervet, et inducta piceis e nubibus umbra omne latet caelum, duplicataque noctis imago est. Frangitur incursu nimbosi turbinis arbor, frangitur et regimen … Ecce super medios fluctus niger arcus aquarum frangitur et rupta mersum caput obruit unda. The tossed sea boils, and the covering shadows of pitch-black clouds so hide the sky that it mirrors the aspect of night. The mast is shattered by the onset of a storm-driven whirlwind, and the rudder is shattered. …a black arc of water breaks over the heart of the sea, and the bursting wave buries his drowning head. 639 is alive and well (in women) in the second century CE, just as it was in the century before, as one might recall from the discussion of Deïanira in Seneca’s Hercules Oetaeus 706-712: Vagus per artus errat excussos tremor, erectus horret crinis, impulsis adhuc stat terror animis et cor attonitum salit pavidumque trepidis palpitat uenis iecur. ut fractus austro pontus etiamnum tumet, quamuis quiescat languidis ventis dies, ita mens adhuc vexatur excusso metu. Wandering tremors roam through my shaking limbs Erect hairs bristle; as yet with minds having been struck terror stands and a stunned heart leaps and the panic-struck liver throbs with bubbling veins as even now the broken sea swells with the south wind however much the sky is quiet with languid winds so even now my mind is troubled with fear shaken off. 639 Translation adapted from Kline: (https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Metamorph11.php#anchor_Toc64105705). 191 Deïanira, prodded to detail (refer) her innermost mental experience (quodcumque tegis), describes fear in terms of horripilation (horret) shaking (excussos; tremor) and being struck (impulsis). There is reference to pounding (palpitat) and thunder (attonitus), breaking waves (fractus pontus), and bubbling (trepidis) inside the body. Pacuvius Seneca inhorrescit horret coruscat excussos tonitru attonitum contremit tremor + palpitat erumpunt impulsis + fractus fervit trepidis pelagus pontus Many other bodily schemas identified in this thesis can be found – fittingly -- in modified form in the Metamorphoses, helping us to further see how a second nature emerges from the texts. For example, recall the speech of Tiberius, in which the tactile verbs which color his words tacitly transfer the rough handling and contaminating touch associated with the common crowd to his speech act: simulque illud reputate, turbide et seditiose tractaverit exercitus Piso, quaesita sint per ambitionem studia militum, armis repetita provincia, an falsa haec in maius vulgaverint accusatores, quorum ego nimiis studiis iure suscenseo. nam quo pertinuit nudare corpus et contrectandum vulgi oculis permittere differrique etiam per externos tamquam veneno interceptus esset, si incerta adhuc ista et scrutanda sunt? (Ann. 3.12) “Consider all of this together: Did Piso violently and forcibly handle the army? Was the devotion of the soldiery sought by currying favor? Was the province recaptured by means of arms? Or was it that his accusers – whose excessive pursuit rightly angers me – promiscuously spread these falsehoods around? Why was the opportunity extended to send the naked body through the crowd to be fondled by their eyes? And why was news carried throughout foreign 192 peoples that he had been snatched away, seemingly by poison, if these things are still uncertain and need to be thoroughly probed?” This can be compared with the hands-on behavior of Fama in Apuleius (Met. 8.6): Necdum satis scelere transacto Fama dilabitur et cursus primos ad domum Tlepolemi detorquet et aures infelicis numtae percutit. The crime had scarcely been done before Rumor slipped away and went straightaway to wrench Tleptolemus’s home and strike the ears of his unhappy bride. The same association between false speech and immoderate touch even carries into Thrasyllus’s deceit of Truth herself by pairing the excessive beating of his own breast with words of counterfeit devotion designed to conceal his true desires (Met. 8.7): Sed Thrasyllus nimium nimius clamare, plangere … et multis caritatis nominibus Veritatem ipsam fallere … cunctis tamen mentitae pietatis officiis studium contrectandae mulieris adhibere … Thrasyllus immoderately and excessively wailed and beat his breast … He deceived Truth herself with the many terms of affection he used …but in all these acts of counterfeit devotion he was pursuing his desire to touch the woman … 640 Deceitful speech in respect to Tiberius, Fama, and Thrasyllus is conceived of in terms of immoderate touch. The “touch” of Tiberius’s word is rough and molesting. The “touch” of rumor is violent. The “touch” of an insincere mourner is excessive and, notably, appears in context with the same verb (contrectandae) Tiberius, who was also believed to have mourned insincerely, uses in his speech about the death of Germanicus. We might also take note of the thematic similarities that exist between Nero marauding through the streets of Rome, attacking passers-by at random, and a scene of animal attack in the novel: 640 Hanson 1989. 193 Q. Volusio P. Scipione consulibus otium foris, foeda domi lascivia, qua Nero itinera urbis et lupanaria et deverticula veste servili in dissimulationem sui compositus pererrabat, comitantibus qui raperent venditioni exposita et obviis vulnera inferrent, adversus ignaros adeo ut ipse quoque exciperet ictus et ore praeferret. Deinde ubi Caesarem esse qui grassaretur pernotuit augebanturque iniuriae adversus viros feminasque insignis, et quidam permissa semel licentia sub nomine Neronis inulti propriis cum globis eadem exercebant, in modum captivitatis nox agebatur. (Tac. Ann. 13.25) At the time of the consulate of Quintus Volusius and Publius Scipio there was peace abroad and scandalous excess at home, where Nero dissembled his identity under the guise of a slave and wandered the streets, brothels, and taverns of the city with companions who would snatch things set out for sale and cause injury to those who got in their way. The victims were so unknowing as to who it was that they faced that Nero himself received obvious injury to his face. Then, when it became known that it was the Caesar who was on the prowl, the outrages against affluent men and women increased, and some people, once such behavior was permitted and uncurbed, carried out the same things with their own cliques with impunity under the name of Nero, and the night was spent as if one were held in captivity. Those of Rome’s streets experience the character of the ruler and autocratic rule in general in a way that is not entirely different from the experience of the pack animals attacked by dogs in Apuleius, to which, above all, the verb grassari draws attention (Met. 8.17): Canes rabidos et immanes et quibusvis lupis et ursis saeviores, quos ad tutelae praesidia curiose fuerant alumnati, iubilationibus solitis et cuiusce modi vocibus nobis inhortantur, qui praeter genuinam ferocitatem tumultu suorum exasperati contra nos ruunt, et undique laterum circumfusi passim insiliunt, ac sine ullo dilectu iumenta simul et homines lacerant, diuque grassati plerosque prosternunt. Cerneres non tam hercules memorandum quam miserandum etiam spectaculum: canes copiosos ardentibus animis alios fugientes arripere, alios stantibus inhaerere, quosdam iacentes inscendere, et per omnem nostrum commeatum morsibus ambulare. The dogs were mad, enormous creatures, fiercer than any wolf or bear, and they had been carefully trained for guard duty. They were set on us with the usual commands and cries of all sorts, so that their native savagery was exacerbated by their owners’ hullabaloo as they rushed toward us, swarmed round us on all sides, and leaped on us from every direction, tearing indiscriminately at animals and men alike, and continuing their attack until they had felled most of us. What a show you would have seen, worthier by Hercules of tears than of telling: a mass of hotly excited dogs, some snatching those who fled, others clinging to those 194 who had fallen, and making the rounds of our entire convoy with snapping jaws. 641 Grassari, which in Pliny is a verb used to describe catfish which indiscriminately go after every living thing, sometimes even dragging down horses (NH 9.45: silurus grassatur, ubicumque est, omne animal appetens, equos innatantes saepe demergens), 642 as well as leopards ambushing their prey (NH 10.202: Insidunt in eadem Africa pardi condensam arborem occultatique ex ramis in praetereuntia desiliunt atque e volucrum sede grassantur), 643 is the central idea that underlies both the Tacitean and Apuleian passages. 644 Nero and his coterie, as well as the pack of dogs, snatch some things away (raperent/arripere) and (figuratively or actually) hold fast to others (in modum captivitatis nox /inhaerere). However, while Nero’s vicious behavior is described with the verb pererrare, which betrays the error-making that accompanies an inherently corrupt ingenium, the vicious behavior of the dogs, which is a part of their proper nature, is associated with a deliberate gait (genuinam ferocitatem… ambulare). 645 Now, was Apuleius thinking of Nero here? I hardly think so. What we do see, however, are the elements of a concept (natural disposition expressed through locomotion, snatching away, holding fast) orbiting around the verb grassari and thereby revealing the second nature of Roman authors and the common structure of otherwise dissimilar passages. MUTUO NEXU 641 Translation adapted from Hanson 1989. 642 “The riverfish prowls about and goes for every living creature wherever it is, often dragging down swimming horses.” 643 “In Africa also leopards crouch in the thick foliage of the trees and hidden by their boughs leap down onto animals passing by, and stalk their prey from the perches of birds.” 644 Pliny also uses it to describe the activity of what is presumed to be a dolphin that prowls about (grassatur) and deliberately sink fishing boats (NH 9.145). These types of activity are what feed into the meaning of grassator (“one who marauds about”). The verb in this sense appears in Livy, Tacitus, and Suetonius. The earliest extant use of the noun, which is comparatively rare, is by Cicero (Fat. 34). 645 See Seneca’s discussion of gait as a sign of one’s nature in Ep.114.3 (see also ch.2). 195 As the above index of passages has shown, more than the forms and fortunes of men are transformed and returned to themselves by Apuleius -- so too are the embodied and especially emotional experiences of countless readers. And there is an additional similarity to other Roman authors that should be noted. One might recall that Tacitus closes the Annales by acknowledging the negotiation of power of which he as an author must be conscious. In his own voice Tacitus says: Etiam si bella externa et obitas pro re publica mortis tanta casuum similitudine memorarem, meque ipsum satias cepisset aliorumque taedium expectarem, quamvis honestos civium exitus, tristis tamen et continuos aspernantium: at nunc patientia servilis tantumque sanguinis domi perditum fatigant animum et maestitia restringunt. (Ann. 16.16) Even had I been narrating campaigns abroad and lives laid down for the commonwealth, and narrating them with the same uniformity of incident, I should myself have lost appetite for the task, and I should expect the rejection of others, repelled by the tale of Roman deaths, honorable perhaps, but tragic and continuous. As it is, this slave-like patience and the profusion of blood wasted at home weary the mind and oppress it with melancholy. 646 Apuleius opens his work as follows: At ego tibi sermone isto Milesio varias fabulas conseram auresque tuas benivolas lepido susurro permulceam, modo si papyrum Aegyptiam argutia Nilotici calami inscriptam non spreveris inspicere, figuras fortunasque hominum in alias imagines conversas et in se rursum mutuo nexu refectas, ut mireris. But I would like to tie together different sorts of tales for you in that Milesian style of yours, and to caress your ears into approval with a pretty whisper, if only you will not begrudge looking at Egyptian papyrus inscribed with the sharpness of a reed from the Nile, so that you may be amazed at men’s forms and fortunes transformed into other shapes and then restored again in an interwoven knot. 647 Much like Tacitus, the narrator of the Prologue to the Metamorphoses is conscious that he is subject to the moral impulse of the reader. 648 Just as the readers of history have a certain stake 646 Jackson 1937. 647 Hanson 1989. 648 There has long been disagreement as to who the narrator of the Prologue is. Hanson 1989 and de Jong 2001 take it to be Lucius (see also Bürger 1888). Riefstahl 1938 takes it to be Apuleius, as does Edwards 1993, who 2001: 52 likens the anonymity of the Prologue’s speaker to that afforded to Tertullian by the pallium in his De pallio. Rohde 1885 and Leo 1905 are cited by Harrison 1990 as suggesting that it is a combination of the two. 196 in the negotiation of political power and its account in the annals of history, the readers of the novel have a stake in the multitude of social norms and values it transmits. The Apuleian narrator transfers the weight of the judgment he is self-conscious about from the author to the material on which the text is inscribed. 649 Egyptian papyrus was common throughout the Graeco-Roman world, 650 so one might suppose this refers either to its origins being similar to those of the author, 651 or perhaps to the fact that the tale is not being performed orally. 652 In any case, Apuleius, who is the author -- if not the narrator -- of Suggestion as also been made that the prologue-speaker is a distinct character akin to the figure of Plautine comedy who speaks as a member of the troupe of actors prior to assuming his character. See Winkler 1985: 200- 3, Dowden 1982: 428, Smith 1972: 513-34. See Harrison 1990: 509, Gibson 2001: 74. For resource on Apuleian and Plautine prologic parallels see Dowden 2001: 134-6. Harrison 1990 suggests that the book itself is the narrator. Gowers 1994: 142-3; 2001: 84 chimes in by drawing a parallel to the fusing of author and book in Persius’s Satire 3. Carver 2001 harmonizes by suggesting that authorial identity is a function of language and the author qua author can have no existence independent of the text. Gibson suggests that the ambiguous relationship between author and character is Theocritean (Id. 7). Dowden 2001: 129 states that the Prologue is polyvalent and “it is a fallacy to ask which one identity we should adopt to the exclusion of the others.” Too 2001 argues for a Barthian perspective that insists upon detaching the identity of the author from the text, citing the refusal of van der Vliet 1897: 79-85 to identify the speaker of the Prologue. Kahane 2001: 235-8 also takes up a Barthian stance, finding that the novel begins by “enacting the ‘death’ of its speaker.” 649 On this being symbolic see Harrison and Winterbottom 2001: 11 citing Grimal 1971. Powell 2001 notes the emphasis placed on the Hellenistic origins of the papyrus through which the speaker speaks. Gibson 2001 suggests that the phrase referring to writing materials should be read as also having auditory elements. His focus is on the sharpness denoted by argutia, which he argues plays on physical and metaphorical sharpness (of wit), and calami, which he suggests refers to the reed pipe and, together with lepido susurro, hints to Theocritus (Id. 1.1-3). 650 Hanson 1989: 2n3; Harrison and Winterbottom 2001: 11. On Papyrus and reeds coming from Egypt see Pliny NH 16.157; Harrison 1990: 510. Gibson 2001: 73 suggests that the emphasis on Egyptian materials references an Egyptian mode of composition (especially that of Theocritus). 651 On the captatio benevolentiae (seeking favour by apologizing for disreputable origin) see Harrison 1990: 510. Clarke 2001: 102 suggests the Egyptian references highlight Apuleius’s own North African origins, which was already suggested by Hildebrand 1842: 7. Swain 2001: 63 sees it as an apology for the non-Roman origin of the book. 652 The tension between modes of written versus oral representation in the prologue has been well-discussed (see Rimmel 2007: viii; Keulen 2007: 106. Kahane 2001 discusses the “complex dialectic of script and voice.” Winkler 1985 refers to Prologue of the novel as “a scrambled assemblage of the whisper and the scratch.” Gibson 2001: 67 notes that the intention to soothe the listener’s ears is conditional on the visual act of reading (he also points to locutor and lector later in the prologue). Don Fowler 2001: 225 argues that the Metamorphoses contains a dialectic between assumed orality and the actual written mode of representation. Slater 2001: 217 notes that the noun sermo (sermone isto Milesio) might suggest an oral tradition. It should also be noted that readers might have read the texts aloud (silent reading is a contentious issue because the “discovery” of it as a practice is located at numerous points in antiquity – see Knox 1968). I here also note the auditory permulceam is the subject of some controversy. Is it, together with conseram, subjunctive and thus an archaism of Old Comedy’s wheedling style? (See Harrison and Winterbottom 2001). Or are both morphologically incorrect future forms, as found in Petronius? (See Nisbet 2001). For discussion see Powell 2001: 32-35. Slater 2001: 213 minimizes the controversy by stating that “given the context, the reader will interpret [it] as persuasive, whether one experiences [it] as a subjunctive or future.” 197 the Prologue, is the only figure actually subject to anxiety over the judgment of the reader. 653 This acknowledgement sets the stage for Apuleius’s demonstration of mastery of Roman socio-literary material. 654 Such demonstrations were typical of African provincial writers of the period, who exhaustively imitated and innovated ancient models – trying to be more Roman than the Romans - to bind the margins of the empire to its center. 655 This notion of binding together disparate members of a common sociocultural identity is encapsulated by the turn of phrase mutuo nexu, 656 which, while both following the “connecting” metaphor of conseram and summarizing the two-way traffic of metamorphosis, 657 also harkens to the prophetic festooning of bees in Vergil’s Aeneid 7.64- 68, where we find the first extant association of these words being used to describe the construction of a sort of community: huius apes summum densae (mirabile dictu) stridore ingenti liquidum trans aethera vectae obsedere apicem, et pedibus per mutua nexis examen subitum ramo frondente pependit. A dense cloud of bees (marvellous to tell) borne through the clear air, with a mighty humming, settled in the very top of the tree, and hung there, their feet all tangled together, in a sudden swarm. 658 The bees link feet as they construct their hive, that is, their locus of community. 659 I do think this is what Apuleius means to get at with his word choice, not just because Vergil has been 653 I here point to what I find to be the pointlessness of Barthian approaches to literature (cf. Too 2001, Kahane 2001) when treating a text as an element of the culture in which it was produced. Authors are concerned with the reception of their texts because they were operating in a living, breathing literary environment. Much more sensible is the approach of Thomas Habinek 1998, who demonstrates that literature was a culturally situated practice that emerged from and intervened in the political and social struggles taking place in the Roman world. 654 Henderson 2001: 189 refers to the Prologue as “a readerly initiation, prefatory initiation into the word-to- come.” 655 See Edwards 2001: 48. 656 I’m not the first to hone in on this phrase. Winkler 1985: 188-92 suggests a financial meaning. Krebs 2018, who reads the phrase through the lens of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, argues that the phrase refers to “the nexus of body and mind, of physical shapes and mental consciousness.” His focus is on the experiences of the characters, not the readers. 657 See Harrison and Winterbottom 2001: 12 citing Scobie 1975: 71 and Laird 2001: 278. 658 Kline 2002: https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/VirgilAeneidVII.php#anchor_Toc3086149. 659 O’Bryhim 2018 identifies this particular bee behavior as usually occurring when they are in the process of making comb for a hive inside a man-made receptacle or a hollow tree. On rare occasions, they exhibit this 198 otherwise argued to be in Apuleius’s mind when writing the Prologue, 660 or because he is about to tell a number of tales in a familiar way, which from time immemorial has been a method of community building and maintenance, 661 but also because he writes throughout the novel in such a way as to make manifest things and ideas already existing in another state. 662 That is to say, I think he is interested in Vergil’s bee metaphor because it is concerned with constructing community in new places. Reading mutuo nexu as a phrase concerned with world building and the integration of community is also supported by the variation of phrasing found in Pliny’s Natural History, wherein he discusses the organized integration of natural elements into the physical world (NH 2.11: ita mutuo conplexu diversitatis effici nexum). 663 By transforming the “raw material” of numerous patterns of Roman socioemotional life and incorporating them into his novel, Apuleius, an author writing from the edges of the empire, reveals the historical processes that generate and maintain social norms and values and, by extension, cultural identities. Further suggestion that the phrase is explicitly concerned with integration is its later appearance in the novel in a magical context wherein hair is intertwined for a ritual that reanimates the bodies of the dead (Met.3.18): behavior in the open when they cannot find a hidden location for a new hive and must construct it in a tree. In this situation, they link legs, form a curtain, and excrete wax from their abdomens in order to build comb directly onto the tree limb. O’Bryhim observes that a proper understanding of the behavior of Latinus’s swarm clarifies the meaning of the omen: The vates, who is no expert on the niceties of bee behavior, says that a stranger will arrive with an army and will rule from the citadel, but those members of the audience who (like Vergil) were familiar with beekeeping could have rendered a better interpretation: the absconding behavior of the bees reflects the past, present, and future of the Trojans. Like bees that desert a hive when threatened by invaders, the Trojans were driven from their home by hostile Greeks. Finding no other place to build a permanent settlement, they come to Italy, just as bees settle on a tree branch if they cannot find a suitable location for a new hive. The bees link legs as they construct their home, just as the Trojans will eventually build their city in Latium. 660 Dowden 2001: 132-3 suggests that the alternative opening of the Aeneid is a significant intertext visible in Apuleius’s prologue. 661 Consider Homer, for example, whose works were performed publicly by rhapsodes at city festivals throughout ancient Greece, such as the Panathenaia at Athens. References to Homer that appear during the 6 th century BCE point to his widespread appeal among a broad population, even if some (like Heraclitus (B56DK) were none too happy about it. For discussion see (e.g.) Ford 1999: 44-45. 662 See Habinek 2005: 14. 663 “Thus, the mutual embrace of the unlike results in an interlacing” 199 Sic illos capillos in mutuos nexus obditos atque nodatos cum multis odoribus dat uiuis carbonibus adolendos. Tunc protinus inexpugnabili magicae disciplinae potestate et caeca numinum coactorum uiolentia illa corpora, quorum fumabant stridentes capilli, spiritum mutuantur humanum et sentiunt et audiunt et ambulant… Next she bound and knotted those hairs together in interlocking braids and put them to burn on live coals along with several kinds of incense. Suddenly by the invincible strength of the magical art and the invisible power of divine forces constrained to her will, the bodies whose hairs were smoking and sizzling borrowed human breath and began to feel and hear and walk.... 664 Much as the elements of nature in Pliny work together to (re)produce that which we experience as physical reality, and bees link their feet together in order to (re)create their social reality, hair is intertwined to (re)produce bodily motion and sensation. The ongoing, iterative processes associated with the words mutuus and nexus in context together suggest they are encoded in Roman thought as denoting a process of (re)integration, whether from isolated elements into objective reality, from individual to group identity, or from insentience to sentience. 665 The (re)creation of sentient experience that the term identifies in the magical ritual mirrors the “reanimation of prototypes” that occur throughout the manuscript. 666 Thomas Habinek uses the phrase “reanimating prototypes” when discussing the creative power of song and the striving of oral performers to live up to and, if possible, surpass the achievements of their ancestors. 667 He uses this idea to “expose the gap between the imitator and the imitated” and draw attention to “the impossibility of a given subject ever partaking of the history he makes.” 668 I am suggesting quite the opposite, but in reference to a very 664 Hanson 1989. 665 See Henderson 2001: 190, who says of the novel that its subject is the outside and the inside of humanity “in their myriad interrelations, mutual displacements, and constitutive supplementarity” (this is his interpretation of figuras fortunasque hominum). 666 For this term see Habinek 2005: 130. 667 Ibid. 668 Habinek 2005: 259. 200 different “gap” (read: Merleau-Ponty’s écart), 669 so I am in no substantive way at odds with my mentor. That is to say, I am suggesting that imitator and imitated meet in “the flesh” of experience – touching and being touched through the processes of embodied literary reception. In this way, they both participate directly in forming and re-forming a history of emotion. Through allusion and the performance of second nature, Apuleius – whether conscious of it or not – reanimates not so much literary prototypes – though he does that too - - but rather he reanimates a community of which his readers can be a part. Those readers re- remember common bodily experiences and integrate them into relevant social concepts. In weaving together his stories, Apuleius repeatedly brings his readers to the threshold of undecidability between objective and subjective experience, and in so doing weaves them together through the shared experiences of the transhistorical body. This body enables each “reanimation” to act as a form of constitutive rhetoric that is generated by and generative of habitus, which is produced by and productive of a social world – a second nature – created and maintained through the mutual resonance of bodies across texts and contexts – mutuo nexu. CONCLUSION I mentioned in Chapter One the fundamental question Bourdieu raises: How can we tell when a habitus has changed, varied or remained the same? 670 Apuleius offers a wide window into how we might begin to form new answers to this query when studying the socioemotional history of ancient Rome. Rather than offering detailed answers here -- I will save that for the book -- I have striven to identify the framework within which we can begin to do so. This 669 For my discussion of this see ch.4: Merleau-Ponty 2012 argues that there is a certain intelligence of the body – alive and mobile -- that enables it to innovate and retain new meaning through a kind of reversible reflection that enables it to transpose a given situation through movement, shifting from passive experience to active experience. Such transpositions take place in what Merleau-Ponty calls écart, a “gap” which exists between ourselves and others and creates a divergence between the sentient and sensible aspects of our existence. When in this gap, we are at the threshold of undecidability between objective and subjective experience. 670 Maton 2014: 61; org. pub. 2008. 201 framework, which blends embodied theories of cognition and meaning-making with the analytical tool of habitus provided by Bourdieu, allows us to identify a number of starting- points for further analysis. For example, we have been able to identify an enactive analogy that persistently externalizes the internal experience of young women facing sexual domination. We have also been able to identify the habitual extension and displacement of male psychosomatic experience to female characters. The beating heart of Ovid’s male pupil resonates in Psyche. The intense emotion of Pacuvius’s Achaean heroes runs through Charite. We are thus able to also see that, while the conceptualization of emotion as a bodily experience remains stable, the members of society with whom readers are encouraged to resonate is subject to change. This is how we can track changes to habitus through literature without the limitation of looking only to the sources that purport to tell us about emotions, and without becoming bogged down with concerns about the insincerity, generic restriction, and repeated commonplaces which are often viewed as obstacles to our understanding of emotion in the ancient world. 671 Prelinguistic historemes, especially when they can be classified as enactive analogies, allow us to identify the evolution of the way in which human emotional experience is conceived, expressed, and used to create a second nature – an artifice forged by culture that brings the reader to learn from experience. I would therefore suggest that the transhistorical body is that which most ensures that the book “never forgets its readers.” 672 The easy translation and transposition of the transhistorical body facilitates Apuleius revealing the readers to themselves as Romans. 673 671 See Rosenwein 2006: 26 as referenced on p.13 of this thesis: “Sources are interested, often insincere. What should we make of them when they purport to tell us about emotions? Further, as composed texts, are they not very far from ‘real’ emotions? Then, too, do not genres dictate the emotional tenor that a text will have, quite independently from any supposed community? Finally, aren’t texts full of topoi, repeated commonplaces derived from other places, sources, and eras? What can topoi tell us about real feeling?” 672 See Henderson 2001: 189. It also further explains why Psyche is so easily seen to mirror Lucius and Lucius to mirror the author. On Psyche’s situation mirroring that of Lucius’s see (e.g.) James 1987; Kenney 1990; Edwards 1992; Barrett 1994; Konstan 1994; Shumate 1996; Smith 1998. On links between Apuleius and Lucius see Keulen 2015. For references on Lucius as a foil for Apuleius at Met. 11.27.9 see Harrison 2000: 217n25. 673 This idea is central to the Prologue, which speaks in a voice “from nowhere and everywhere [and] from no fixed point and space” (see Slater 2001: 221). 202 Conclusion We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body. ~William B. Yeats 674 I will conclude by making plain what I think was achieved through my approach, what claims can fairly be made from it, and what limitations should be recognized. Through my approach, I have uncovered previously unrecognized patterns of expression which can be systematically studied in Roman texts. This discovery, of course, rests upon discoveries about human cognition and behavior made in the sciences which have alerted humanists to something sociologists and phenomenological philosophers have supposed for some time: frequently repeated experiences become fundamental aspects of the self, and these experiences remain operative in some way even when they are not understood as dominant activities taking place at the center of attention. 675 As Merleau-Ponty rightly remarked, the body’s role is to help us understand. 676 Inattention to this does a great disservice to the texts and the culture which produced them. When we limit our philological interests strictly to individual terms, we make the argument that the body can be subsumed by or reduced to the status of a sign. But meaningful practice does not coincide with a sign, and meaning cannot be reduced to a sign which exists on a separate level outside the immediate sphere of bodily experience. 677 Bodily practice is knowledge and remembering is in the hands and in the body. 678 It is the hands and the body which fundamentally understand and remember the meaning, sentiment, and emotion a text is able to convey. My approach enables the knowledge provided by the body to make up for the oversimplifications (and in some cases the over-complexifications) of any commentary by enhancing the experience of 674 Essays and Introductions 1961: 235. 675 Connerton 1989: 94. 676 See Connerton 1989: 95. 677 Ibid. 678 Ibid. 203 literature and teaching readers how to read with greater insight into the literary conventions that are being evoked and the emotional memory that is being forged, maintained, or altered in the process. 679 Integral to providing such insights has been discussing emotion in a way that is as independent of emotion terms as possible. This is partly because a socially situated emotional lexicon is not isomorphic with the structure of emotions themselves, and partly because a theory about emotion has to be a theory about the kinds of things to which emotion words refer, not about the words themselves. 680 Through this approach, because cultural historians need to take the “invisible topic” of emotion seriously, 681 I have demonstrated the existence of a nonverbal mnemonic resonance and how it can be analyzed by distant readers. In so doing, I have moved toward dismantling the notion that reason and sentiment are contradictory polarities in ancient cultural formation, 682 and have offered a means of affording distant readers a means of better understanding the sources, governing laws, and consequences of emotion in the ancient world. Through the redefinition of the historeme, first as prelinguistic and then as enactive, I have opened a window onto how ancient historians retell events in such a way as to provide le sens du jeu. We saw this, for example, in Livy, who responds to Polybius by structuring his narrative of Hannibal around a deeply embedded haptic metaphor which enables him to discuss past events in a way that is relevant to his own context. 683 Through this same example, we also witnessed how the haptic structure of the narrative incorporates emotional experience, anchoring the memory of historically contingent audiences in bodily experience. 684 Also engaging with hapticity is Tacitus, who uses touch to 679 See Armstrong 2013: 176. 680 Ortony, Clore and Collins 1988: 2. 681 Rosenwein 2006: 1. Of course, many scholars have paid serious attention. In addition to Kaster 2005, see (e.g.) Caston & Kaster 2016; Cairns 2019; Cairns and Nelis 2017; Cairns & Fulkerson 2015. 682 See Reddy 2001: 154. 683 See ch.2. 684 See ch.3. 204 address the inscrutable relationship between truth and the body that arose under the rule of Tiberius. Tacitus structures his narrative around a conceptual metaphor that associates physical molestation with Tiberius’s speech and the investigation he proposes, which speaks to the sanitization and rehabilitation efforts the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre is thought to represent. 685 The understanding of the historical process I have proposed, in which bodies and minds think together, helps us to more completely understand the finest details of historical narrative, as we see in the close study of Tacitus’s use of the term aspernor, which signals the renegotiation of power. No place is this renegotiation more interesting to consider than when signalled by Tacitus himself, by way of which he participates in a renegotiation of influence among historiographers. Such renegotiations had been previously identified with the same term by Sallust, who also acknowledged the authority sought by historians who spurn and are spurned through the artful renegotiation of power that occurs with each reading of the text. 686 The negotiation and renegotiation of power, as well as the role of touch in conceptualizations of such (re)negotiations, was also central to the younger Seneca’s ideas about knowledge and authority. 687 We grasp knowledge or we reject it, thereby granting or denying authority to the source providing it. Grasping and pushing away are thus the fundamental ethical acts. 688 Central to Senecan Stoicism is the belief that vision is essential to performing such ethical acts, which poses an interesting problem when it comes to grasping knowledge pertaining to emotion, which is invisible, aside from its physiological marks in vivo. In his De ira, Seneca meets this challenge by embedding an image of the natural world which is grounded in the physiological experience of emotion in the text, exhibiting a compositional style similar to that of the historians. The historians structure narratives around 685 See ch. 4. 686 Ibid. 687 See ch. 5. 688 Habinek 2011: 76. 205 bodily experience to create metahistorical narratives that encourage the collectivizing of memory, while Seneca, who is concerned with moral communities, maps the body onto features of the external environment in order to represent, study, and make otherwise unobservable phenomena available to assent and thereby ethical choice. In both the historians and Seneca, the semantic body, which is a necessary component of constitutive rhetoric, paves the way for motus animorum, which refers to the intercorporeal nature of such rhetoric. The “movements” generated by the authors “get inside” their readers and enable emotional communities (i.e. communities of “movement”) to form and reform over time. Perhaps nowhere do we more see the utility of the Roman intercorporeal writing style than in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses, which is especially concerned with binding the edges of the empire to the emotional community found at its center. Equally important to the author, who signals that he is as concerned with aspernatio as the historians, is establishing himself among the authors who established and perpetuate that very same community. 689 The novel thus offers rich detail of the historical processes that generate and maintain social norms and values and, by extension, cultural identities. Apuleius weaves his readers together through the shared experiences of the transhistorical body, employing a form of constitutive rhetoric that constitutes what Bourdieu called habitus – that which is produced by and productive of a social world – a second nature created and maintained through the mutual resonance of bodies across texts and contexts. In addition to identifying patterns of expression in ancient texts and introducing novel hypotheses about their contribution to the study of authorial style and the history of emotion, this thesis has also introduced a new tool for textual analysis. Designed to analyze psychological and social interactions that take place online, the Text Analysis, Crawling, and Interpretation Tool (TACIT) is an intuitive tool and interface for conducting state-of-the-art 689 See ch. 6. 206 text analysis which can be employed by literary and cultural historians to identify recurrent patterns of expression in Roman literature. The feature of TACIT I used in this project was co-occurrence analysis, which enabled me to study the relationships and patterns that exist between groups of words. Co-occurrence data offer insights into the interconnection between terms within a given text, and provides a means of comparing the compositional style of authors from various periods and genres. TACIT is able to calculate multiword level co- occurrences, which allowed me to specify multiple words of interest and calculate how frequently subcombinations of these words occur together in a given text or texts. TACIT provided me with an output file with the frequencies of the different word combinations and their locations within the texts, enabling me to locate and verify the relationships between clusters or synonyms and then evaluate the overall connections between those words in a given text or author, as well as across texts and authors. 690 Barbara Rosenwein writes that the history of emotion is not about old and new or lost and found. Nor, on the other hand, is it about hard-wiring and universality. It is about repurposing and revaluing – and therefore about transforming felt experience. 691 What I have shown in this thesis is that the ways in which Roman authors transform felt experience is grounded in the body. Elements of experience which are “hard-wired” and “universal” are creatively repurposed and applied to disparate characters, circumstances, and evaluations. A claim that I think can be fairly made from this is that the historical distance from the texts created by (especially legal) humanists, who have reconstructed the lives of ancient Romans as wholly separate from our own, is to some degree false. 692 While “defamiliarizing” the texts has unquestionable value, the Romans were not, after all, disembodied or otherwise alien to such a degree that they enjoyed some other neurophysiological makeup than ours. If they did, 690 See Dehghani et al. 2017. 691 Rosenwein 2016: 113. 692 For the positive view of such distance see Connerton 1989: 98. 207 we would not be able to make sense of their language, much less their experiences, which we regularly claim to do. I believe this claim is reasonable to make, because by accepting a less- than-wholly-distant perspective I have demonstrated how we might begin to answer the fundamental Bourdieusian question: How can we tell when a habitus has changed, varied or remained the same? 693 Moreover, I have provided a foundation for a useful reconception of the relation between individual and collectivity that is not reductionist, condescending, or ethnocentric. 694 This reconception is based on a premise set forth by Maurice Merleau-Ponty, namely that the body is our general medium for having both a biological and a cultural world. 695 At the same time, this reconception coheres with the Roman poetic and religious tradition, which was concerned with understanding the ways in which knowledge is carried by and through bodies. 696 Attention to the body as an element of culture and communication thus adds depth and nuance to narratives concerned with power and knowledge, and, above all, it enriches our understanding of memory and emotional expression in the ancient world. It can also be claimed, I believe, that this approach deepens our understanding of the influence Stoic thought had on the way Roman authors composed their texts. For the Stoics, thought is as much external as it is internal – the result of dynamic interaction between the mind and a world in which individuals are embedded as physically and socially embodied organisms. 697 In a world wherein the universe consists only and entirely of matter, 698 emotions and other “invisible” phenomena are made available to study through their translation into the natural world, whether as a body of water, as seen in Seneca, or the flesh itself, as seen in Apuleius. Through this translation process, sensory information is integrated into something ethically meaningful and language is shown not to be just produced by but 693 Maton 2014: 61; org. pub. 2008. 694 See Armstrong 2013: 113. 695 Merleau-Ponty 2002: 169. 696 Habinek 2007: 231. 697 Habinek 2011: 65. 698 Habinek 2011: 67. 208 also to be productive of perception. 699 That is to say, images of mental life are crafted through sensory experiences embedded in the texts by linguistic structures that scaffold propositional content, leading readers to align themselves with material realities to such an extent that they become indistinguishable from them. 700 The generation of such thresholds of experience, wherein readers become unable to distinguish between objective and subjective experience, represents a pattern of thought and expression natural to the Stoic worldview. 701 The natural fit theories of embodied cognition have with the poetic and philosophical traditions of ancient Rome, particularly Stoicism’s insistence upon the dynamism of matter and all processes of reconfiguration, reminds us that little is gained by the mind-body dichotomy or other misleading distinctions between nature, biology, and culture. 702 Doing away with such distinctions in fact enables us to see more clearly that rhetoric and stylistics are inextricably about emotion -- both the prediction and reception thereof. 703 Reading with an attention to cognitive stylistics does not universalize ancient texts, rather, it highlights the importance of context to understanding the ways in which the body shapes texts written at unique historical moments, and helps us to more clearly see that change in emotional expression is something other than random drift -- it results from interactions between embodied minds and historical circumstances. 704 Unlike the conservatism of affect and the “expectable” structures identified by Kaster, 705 the cognitive-sociological approach I have forwarded helps us to instead see new dynamism in a historical period otherwise portrayed as being largely stagnant in terms of emotional expression. That having been said, it does share a limitation identified by Kaster in 699 Habinek 2011: 71. 700 Ibid. 701 See “cosmobiology” in Habinek 2011: 66. 702 Habinek 2011: 74. 703 See Burke 2011: 124. 704 Armstrong 2013: 44. 705 See Kaster 2005: 11. 209 his approach. The texts available to us come from the cultural elite – male, wealthy, and “well bred.” 706 As such, while I offer a fresh perspective on Roman emotional expression, there is no obvious way to claim knowledge of how nonelites understood, expressed, or used emotion to appeal to one another. 707 Beyond this, the limitations of my approach are much the same as any theoretical approach faces: interpretation is always to some extent subjective. I have tried to mitigate the subjective nature of interpretation by using TACIT, which produces data based on existing textual and statistical evidence. That having been said, data is not the whole story of human emotion and cannot predict reactions. 708 Other readers may find alternative explanations for the same data. Nevertheless, I believe I have provided the beginnings of an excellent resource that helps us to better understand how bodily experiences shaped the texts we study. As to the future direction of this project, should it have one, the aim is to provide a cross-genre, diachronic index of prelinguistic and enactive historemes which can be treated as artifacts that belong to the history of emotion. I believe such an index will change how such a history is written. A complete index will ideally involve the development of a more targeted digital platform, which I am currently hoping to create through the University of Exeter’s Lexicon Translaticium Latinum project. 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Abstract (if available)
Abstract
Focusing on the interface of memory and emotion in historiographic, philosophical, and prose fiction texts, this dissertation explores the natural fit that theories of embodied cognition have with the poetic and philosophical traditions of ancient Rome, and interrogates how such traditions influenced the style and rhetoric of various prose authors of both the republican and imperial periods. While existing literature on Roman emotion focuses on the sets of moves and motives that persons experiencing emotions enact, my research focuses instead on identifying the metahistorical narrative that the unfolding performance of emotion generates. Applying the insights of George Lakoff, Mark Johnson, Vittoria Cuccio, and Vittorio Gallese to Pierre Bourdieu’s notion of habitus, I argue, can form the basis of not only novel readings of some of the most familiar passages in Roman prose authors like Sallust, Livy, Tacitus, Seneca, and Apuleius, but can also provide insight into the sources, governing laws, and cultural, ethical, and social consequences of emotion in the ancient world.
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University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses
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Creator
Devereaux, Jennifer J.
(author)
Core Title
Intercorporeality: toward a new history of Roman emotion
School
College of Letters, Arts and Sciences
Degree
Doctor of Philosophy
Degree Program
Classics
Publication Date
05/01/2021
Defense Date
02/15/2019
Publisher
University of Southern California
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University of Southern California. Libraries
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Tag
ancient novel,Apuleius,cognitive,cognitive literary studies,Cognitive Metaphor Theory (CMT),embodied cognition,historeme,historiography,Livy,metaphor,OAI-PMH Harvest,Sallust,Seneca,sociological,Stoicism,Tacitus
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English
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Habinek, Thomas (
committee chair
), Thalmann, William (
committee chair
), Cairns, Douglas (
committee member
), Dehghani, Morteza (
committee member
), Fischer-Bovet, Christel (
committee member
), Short, William Michael (
committee member
)
Creator Email
jdeverea@usc.edu,jdevereaux@ucdavis.edu
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https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c89-163803
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UC11660071
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etd-DevereauxJ-7362.pdf (filename),usctheses-c89-163803 (legacy record id)
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163803
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Dissertation
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Devereaux, Jennifer J.
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University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses
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The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the a...
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Tags
ancient novel
Apuleius
cognitive
cognitive literary studies
Cognitive Metaphor Theory (CMT)
embodied cognition
historeme
historiography
Livy
metaphor
Sallust
sociological
Stoicism
Tacitus