[Glenn Wright]

Caelius

Women seem so easy to undervalue,
trained to be obsequious and compliant.
Clodia could tear any man to pieces,
proving her mettle.

How delightful when she embraced her sparrow,
every man desiring to be that sparrow.
She, Medea, skillful with men and potions,
planned her next exploit.

When I won her, Venus, I thought, had blessed me.
Poor Catullus warned me that she was poison,
wanting, still, to drink her addictive essence,
helpless against her.

Foolishly I thought it was all for pleasure.
When I called it quits, she became a dragon.
Crafty, ugly, ruthless, she said I’d plotted
coldly to kill her.

Thank the gods that Cicero came to save me,
slashing flesh from bone with his tongue—a scalpel,
razor-sharp, he sliced away all her honor,
dignity, stature.

* *

Sitting still in silence, alone and beaten,
Clodia collected herself. Remaining
calm, she meets the faces of men, parading
out into history.
————————
Edits:
S1L1: Women are so easy to undervalue, > Women seem so easy to undervalue,
S4L3: Crafty, ugly, ruthless, she said I plotted > Crafty, ugly, ruthless, she said I’d plotted
S5L3: Wielded by a surgeon. He took her honor, > razor-sharp, he slices away her honor, > razor-sharp, he sliced away all her honor,
Add asterisks between S5 and S6.
S6L1: Smoldering in silence, alone and beaten, > Sitting still in silence, alone and beaten,
S6L3: calm, she met the faces of men, parading > calm, she meets the faces of men, parading

[Carl Copeland]

Hi, Glenn. Thanks to you, I’m revisiting this period that came alive for me in the racy series “Rome,” which I watched not once, but twice. The character of Atia (mother of Octavian) in the series was apparently based on Clodia.

The only metrical hitches I find are in S1L1, S2L1 and S5L3, where “are,” “when” and “by” wouldn’t naturally be stressed. By S5, I suppose we can rely on the metrical momentum, but the earlier ones might interfere with establishing the meter.

In S4, “be came” of course needs to be closed up, and I suggest “I’d plotted” in the next line. Also, “called it quits” sounds too modern and colloquial to me, but I could be wrong.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Carl—

Thanks for the suggestions. I used all but one of them. I’m glad you’re enjoying the adventures of Pullo and Vorenus. Clodia is maddeningly enigmatic as a historical figure. There are so many shockingly scandalous stories about her that they can’t possibly all be true, but one can’t help admiring the sheer audacity with which she flouts the traditional moral restraints placed on Roman women. Only Agrippina, Nero’s mother, comes close to being her equal.

Glenn

[David Callin]

So, are these sapphics? That's my wild guess, knowing little about them. I imagine they're true to the original. I just think that, for a poem in English, a little bravura rhyming wouldn't go amiss, and strict conformity to the original be damned.

I hope you don't mind that as an uninformed observation, Glenn.

Cheers

David

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, David—

This poem is, indeed, in Sapphic stanzas.
Because every line in a Sapphic stanza ends with a trochee, rhyme, if used, would have to be feminine, like father/bother or sister/blister. Such rhymes are most often associated with light or humorous verse. It would definitely be a challenge to add rhyme to a poem written in Sapphics. Thanks for your response!

Glenn

[Mark McDonnell]

Hi Glenn,

You’ve made me do some googling, which was quite fun. I’m now 1% better informed, Classical History-wise (OK, that's an optimistic estimate). I know about Caelius’ affair with Clodia, who was also the muse of Catullus (who called her Lesbia, in honour of Sappho and wrote about her with a sparrow) and how he (Caelius) was accused of trying to kill her (Clodia) and was defended by Cicero, who nicknamed her “Medea”. I think I’ve got that right. Next week on Ancient Rome...

Yes. What a soap opera. Unfortunately, the poem doesn’t rise much above that level for me. If not for the gloss of erudition, that the protagonists are figures from ancient history, I feel like I could substitute “Clodia”, “Cicero” and “Catullus” for “Sandra”, “Dave” and “Eddie”, such is the impression of a speedy soap opera recap in verse. (You do make an attempt at an epic flourish at the close, with Clodia "parading/out into history" but how would the speaker at the time know that?) The poem, as someone once said about history, just feels like one damn thing after another. Rather than inhabiting a voice, or approaching any of this “slant”, to use that still valuable cliche, it's like you are trying to condense an entire wikipedia entry into sapphic verse. The speaker doesn’t seem to be anywhere in the poem, in terms of time or space. The poem isn’t taking place at any dramatic moment in the narrative, it is just a summary of all the stuff that happened.

The poem has a certain energy though, and the sapphics are definitely better than the last one.

Mark

[Carl Copeland]

Originally Posted by Mark McDonnell

I know about Caelius’ affair with Clodia, who was also the muse of Catullus (who called her Lesbia, in honour of Sappho and wrote about her with a sparrow)

I’m no expert on any of this, but my googling told me that Glenn is making a double assumption, that the unnamed woman mourning for her sparrow in Catullus 3 was Lesbia and that Lesbia was Clodia. It’s all very plausible, as far as I can tell, so I’m just composing a footnote that the poem certainly doesn’t need.

[Susan McLean]

Glenn, I have to agree with Mark that your poem feels more like a summary of events than a dramatization of them. I know the history of Clodia, Caelius, Catullus, and Cicero, so I could follow the sequence, but I didn't find that your summary added anything but a feeling of how uncomfortably the knee-jerk misogyny of ancient Rome fits into a contemporary poem. I will also confess to a lack of enthusiasm for sapphics in English. I have seen them done well (I like Timothy Steele's "Sapphics Against Anger," for instance) but usually the rhythms don't appeal to me and the lack of rhyme deprives them of some of the usual beauty of English metrical poems. English rhythms and Latin rhythms of poetry are not very similar, so trying to overlay one on the other usually feels like a mistake to me.

Susan

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Mark, Carl, and Susan—

I wanted this poem to be read against the poem I posted last week, “Clodia.” In that poem the speaker, a contemporary Roman male who had an affair with Clodia—possibly Catullus—views her as manipulative and deceitful. I had two goals in writing “Caelius.”

First, I wanted to look at Clodia from a different, more sympathetic perspective. I chose Marcus Caelius Rufus because he represents the kind of selfish, transactional lover with whom Clodia surrounded herself and did battle. He regards her merely as a prize or object, and has no concern for her as a person.

Second, I wanted to suggest a parallel between the sexual politics of Clodia’s Rome and our modern world. The current debates about abortion, contraception, and the role of women in the workplace suggest that the view of women against which Clodia did battle is still very much alive. The relentlessly patriarchal society of ancient Rome produced an impressive parade of capable, dangerous women who succeeded in gaining power and control of their destinies by ruthlessly controlling their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, and lovers. The contemporary male writers who knew them tend to portray them as monsters. Modern readers are more likely to sympathize with and admire them. I hope that the shift from Caelius to a modern speaker in the last stanza suggested this objective.

I thought Sapphics would be a fitting tribute to Sappho, a woman who challenged the exclusion of women from the exclusively male world of poetry in her own day.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts and responses.

Glenn

[Mark McDonnell]

I hope that the shift from Caelius to a modern speaker in the last stanza suggested this objective.

Hey Glenn,

I didn't get that you were doing this. That there were two speakers. Looking again, I can kind of see it. I think if this contrast could be brought out more it would help the poem. Maybe you could make the first voice, the majority of the poem, more of a voice. Make him more scathing, vulgar, meaner: "Poor Catullus warned me the bitch was poison". Well, maybe not that but you get the idea.

Then the dignity of the contemporary voice would be more of a contrast. And perhaps simply italicising the last stanza, or separating it with an asterisk, would help.

(I would change "parading" to "paraded" in the penultimate line.)