A Modern Day Saint?

A Toledo, Ohio mayoral candidate:  http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/news/a39201/opal-covey-toledo-mayor-candidate-prophet-exorcist/

The Devil is in the Details

I just wanted to respond to the previous post on the Devil appearing as the old gods to Martin.  In addition to what we have already seen by Prudentius in the battle between Christianity and the Roman religion, perhaps the appearance and choice of each individual old god for the Devil was Sulpicius' way of showing how Martin could not be swayed by any form (i.e. the Power of Jupiter, the Seduction of Aphrodite, the (false) wisdom of Minerva).  It would be interesting, though perhaps a bit far-fetched to connect each of these gods with the sort of vices mentioned in Prudentius.  In my opinion, though, the purpose of Devil in including these old gods is the same as what he does later with his depiction of the false Christ: namely, to tempt Martin into following a false religion.  At this point, as Sulpicius had already mentioned, Christianity was being challenged by a number of heresies, most notably the Arrians.   Both Sulpicius and Martin must have viewed these false beliefs perhaps with even more hatred than the Roman religion of old as they functioned as a perversion and distortion of the true Christian belief they held so dear.  Therefore, after exhausting all of his earlier machinations (artibus), the devil plays his trump care, depicting a false (but ideally pleasing) manifestation of Jesus.  Naturally, Martin is undaunted by this and previous appearances and wins out in the end, signifying Orthodox Christianity's victory over first the pagan religions of old and finally, and perhaps more importantly, the blasphemous heretical sects

The Devil in the Form of the "Old Gods"

I found it interesting that Sulpicious decided to have the devil show himself to Martin the guise of the "old gods" at the beginning of Section 22.  Now certainly I can see why a Christian author would choose pagan gods as disguises for the devil as they are obviously profane and diabolical by this point in time.  I can also understand why perhaps donning the image of a pagan god may work for the devil when presenting himself to the numerous heathens mentioned throughout the work, as they still believe in the the "old gods" and would be open to accepting the devil in these forms.  However, Sulpicious has the devil presenting himself in these images to "the holy man," i.e Martin.  Certainly Martin being a Christian and not believing pagan gods would have seen through such a disguise and realized immediately that the individual was not who they said they were since the pagan gods are false.  Perhaps Sulpicious decided upon such an explanation to give the devil extra devilness or perhaps even to show that he is not a very crafty devil.  We have already seen and will see again that he is hardly a persistent devil, as Martin simply brushes him off a number of times and he simply vanishes in a puff of smoke.  This is just speculation but I did find this interesting.

The Emotions of Martin

I thought Sulpicius’ description of Martin’s emotions was interesting. It is interesting that Martin seems to have the same laudable qualities as the stoics. No one sees him angry, upset, sad or laughing. Martin keeps himself at a stoic middle in the handling of all matters. But while it is impossible for the stoics to achieve the perfection of stoicism associate with the “sage”, Martin does have an emotion the “happiness from heaven” that he bear on his face. It is a sort of interesting divergence. The stoic wants complete control of his emotions, as does the monk, but the monk also is blessed by divine bliss (for a lack of a better term). I assume then that this divine bliss is not of the more secular emotions that could lead one astray, but rather it is the bearing that one achieves after reaching a certain level of enlightenment through Christ, a Nirvana of sorts. Actually, I rather like Nirvana as a description of Martin’s state; Martin is outside of secular cares, has reached enlightenment of Christ, and now he goes through the murk of the worldly matters to help and enlighten others. Martin is a yogi; after all Sulpicius says that Martin seems outside the nature of humans. Would this divine bliss separate Martin from the stoics? Or is there an idea that once a stoic has achieved complete dominion of his emotions and state of mind, he would be blessed with a certain happiness(?), contentment, that he is outside of the normal struggles of man? Of course, slightly counter to what Sulpicius says of Martin emotional control, Martin is described as weeping over the sins of other. I guess since the source of the weeping is pure and pious it makes the weeping itself of the same nature as his “caelestam laetitiam”; perhaps even that happiness is why he weeps, sort of a direct cause, because he sees from a place of bliss how fallen a certain sinner might be.  I would also imagine that the difference lies primarily in the use of “rideo” for what no one sees and the “laetitiam” that Martin has; rideo referring to laughter/smiling without the understanding of the cause for it, or as another way in which one might be to luxurious with his/her emotions, whereas the laetitia is a state of grace made clear by the corresponding adjective “caeles”.  

Violent Religious Repression and the Problem with Sulpicius/Martin

I normally say I found something interesting, but this time I found it rather disturbing how much Sulpicius glorifies violent religious oppression. It starts with the authoritarian manner in which Martin stops the procession of a non-Christian funeral. Martin mistakes the funeral as a certain rite of the non-Christian religion and decides that stopping it is the right thing to do. Sulpicius describes the rites as deriving from “misera dementia”, whereas performing symbolic cannibalism is the better way to worship. He also describes the objects of worship as devils, so that way no bias seeps in. It is really sickening to read the last line of section 12 where it is glorified that Martin controlled these people during a time of mourning (of course with the power of God, because Martin as person is useless except for doing some fasting and praying) and besides, even if it had been a ritual, it is not his business how others worship, but of course Christianity loves to tell others why their lives are wrong and sinful. The description of Martin as “permitting” them to leave is atrocious and again just piles up the justification for religious oppression. This sort of literary praise acts as a justification for even greater atrocities.

The destruction of temples that Martin performs is another example of the glorification of religious violence and Sulpicius’ description of the non-Christians as raving and frenzied in now ways seems to understand the reason for that anger. I am sure Martin would have some issue, if one of his many monasteries was suddenly being destroyed by a person that says that he is justified by the power of his god and that Martin was a sinner and a terrible person. I think it is no way surprising that the non-Christians react violently. There is no reasoning with someone life Martin, a religious fanatic. Just because Sulpicius uses pretty Latin to describe the vents in no way changes the fact that Martin is clearly an extremist. The Ku Klux Klan also thought they were being aided by God. Of course Martin also responds in like kind by using armed angels to allow his further destruction of other peoples’ way of life. Martin brings violence and should not be surprised if he is answered with violence. It is a terrible cycle and Christianity is very good at getting the ball rolling. I mean, in the Muslim faith “people of the book” (i.e. Christians) are considered good people. However, that in no way stops Christianity as a religion from committing itself to waging holy war on the Muslims. I feel astonished that Christians of the modern era are surprised at the level of hatred with which they are received by many other faiths. The many waves of aggressive missionaries are just another example of disgusting religious oppression.

Recently the Pope sainted a 16^th century missionary to the Baja California, which was received with great enmity by the native people of the land. And no wonder, good ol’ father Serra helped to destroy the native culture and helped cause the death of 1000’s of natives. Truly he was a man who deserves to be venerated and copied. Centuries of violent repression and the continued glorification of the violence is not something any religion should be proud of. We see it here in in Sulpicius with Martin’s destruction of temples, we see it in the Song of Roland with the depiction of Muslims and their religion (most of which portrayal is just wrong). These writings help convince the Spanish during the 1400’s to begin the Inquisition and to expel from the country all of its native Moor population. Sulpicius is just an early step down this road of violence and it is disgusting the way he glorifies it. It honestly makes alot of it hard to read. I personally wanted to hit Martin by the time I finished with section regarding his persecution of others and I am very sympathetic to the non-Christians that wanted to drive Martin off.  

What's in a name?

I've crossed a threshold with today's reading - these names need explaining. I had been content to simply raise an eyebrow at the suitability of the proper names recorded in Vita Martini, but now I definitely have questions!

We begin with Martin - the Fighter. After serving in the army, he dedicates himself (in Sulpicius' words) to be a miles of God. For the rest of his career, Martin fights spiritual battle with demons and sickness, conquering (mostly) for God.

Next is Hilarius - the Good-Natured. He is loved by his followers, respected by his peers, successful in his service. He is the example of the ideal bishop - all-together good and persevering.

Lupicinus - the Wolf. He is honored according to the this age of men - honorati secundum saeculum viri. This isn't the nest example of the name game in Vita Martini, but it is at least a somewhat derogatory implication for a man who doesn't seem to be a believer (rather a man of secular reputation), and doesn't seem to become a believer after the miracle at his house (or one would think Sulpicius would note it).

Rusticus - Country-Bumpkin. He appears in the middle of the road, far outside the city. He also foolishly feigns his wife's illness to get Martin to proceed to Tours, even though Martin was already headed there.

Defensor - the Defender. I think someone on Tuesday even mistook this name for an adjective. And rightly so! Defensor steps out to defend his case against Martin's appointment. The situation is the occasion of the vote, in which we expect legal language.

Taetradius - the Foul. His slave, possessed by a demon, exhibits foul behavior, gnashing his teeth. Taetradius himself is stubborn in his heathen ways, implicatus errore gentilitatis unless Martin could expel the demon.

Arborius - the Tree. He is a man of faith and sacred spirit, as indeed his name recalls images of the Tree of Life, the parable of the mustard seed, etc. It is immensely positive compared to Lupicinus and Taetradius. He even acts in faith to restore his daughter to heath without instruction from Martin.

Paulinus - Paul/Saul of Tarsus. Paulinus' eye is covered with a crassior nubes superducta - just like Saul's eyes were covered with scales after his encounter on the road to Damascus. And just like Saul, his eyes were healed by a holy man. This example I am especially loathe to chalk up to coincidence!

There are many other characters who go un-named. Did Sulpicius only record names which exemplified their story? Are these names supposed to help convince the reader? Or are they only meant only to characterize? Given Sulpicius' frequent claims to the veracity of his report, it seems unlikely that he expected his reader to take these stories as parables. But perhaps we can understand some very careful naming (of characters real or not), to underscore the moral of each story.

Evil Falling Trees

When reading the section (13) where Martin deflects a falling tree, it brought me back to a humorous anecdote from Horace where he describes his escape from a falling tree.  We have mentioned before how there are undertones of Horace throughout this work, in keeping with the looking back to classical Latin that tends to occur during late latin literature.  For Horace his "narrow" escape from the falling tree was incredibly traumatic and he mentions it a number of times, not just in the portion dedicated to his apparent hatred of the tree, which was planted "for the destruction of posterity and the disgrace of the countryside (Ode 2.13)" but also again in Ode 2.17 and Ode 3.4.  This struck me as curious, wondering whether Martin himself mentioned this anecdote about the tree or whether Sulpicius inserted this into his work to include another nod to antiquity and to add to the amazing feats of Martin (even though he states several times that he has related what has been told to him either by Martin or things that were a well known fact, I hesitate to fully believe him, naturally).  If you haven't read this part from Horace, I definitely suggest it.  It is funny and he clearly really hates this tree! :)  

Quoting from the Source

I was intrigued this week to discover, with a little research, that St. Martin's response to the devil "The Lord is my helper, I shall not fear, what can man do to me?  is straight out of the Bible from the letter to the Hebrews (Hebrews 13.6) Κύριος ἐμοὶ βοηθός, [καὶ] οὐ φοβηθήσομαι: τί ποιήσει μοι ἄνθρωπος; and the exact same phrase is also used in Psalm 118.  I wonder whether quoting biblical passages is as commonplace in hagiographers such as Supulcius as I would expect it to be and whether at this point in the late 4th early 5th century these passages and letters would have been widely available to the public.  Obviously, in this particular incident, perhaps Martin, in addition to drawing strength from the words themselves, also gains an aspect of authority from where the words come from and who used them before (as it has been suggested that Paul wrote Hebrews).

Monasteries and Asceticism

The depiction of monastic life in section ten paints an interesting picture. Perhaps Sulpicius leaves it out because it would be assumed, but there is no discussion of how the monks provide for themselves. Sulpicius specifically mentions that the Monks practiced no ars and that the Monks are in the practice of not selling or buying anything. I understand that ascetics try to limit the amount of food they eat, but one still needs some level of sustenance to survive. Sulpicius mentions fasting, but he also mentions that brothers coming together after fasting to dine together and also wine for medical use. Maybe I am picking up on something that isn’t really there; but if the Monks are not providing for themselves, then wouldn’t they have to rely on the outside world for food? Since they are trying to cut themselves off from the world, wouldn’t relying on outside goods be hypocritical? They also wear camel skin clothing, which our commentary mentioned would have been imported to copy the ascetics of Egypt. But that would imply buying and selling, which Sulpicius explicitly states they do not do. Perhaps that means simply at the level of individual neophyte and not the order as a whole, which would make sense and give meaning to the medium that everything is put into. The monastery, by removing any activity except for holy study, allows for the individual monk to be less concerned with the menial toils of life. The passage also mentions that there are only 8 disciples and I would imagine that would also make it easier for a monastery to support itself. However, why only partially emulate the ascetics of Egypt? Why not keep completely to themselves, if that is the monks’ purpose in going to the monastery?  Also, the ascetics of Egypt would have had to provide for themselves completely and been completely cut off from the outside world. However, the camel skin does also call to mind John the Baptist and he comes out of the wilderness prepared to spread the word of Jesus’ coming. I guess the other thing that I noticed was the focus on remaining separated both from each other and the world. It would seem incongruent with the ideas that Jesus represented in his ministry of approaching all levels of society. One would think that the monks would seek to understand the world in order that they might be better equipped to tend their flock as bishops. The insular approach would seem to make sense only if that is the purpose of a monk’s life. Otherwise that same insulation would make it more difficult to understand, sympathize, and help those whom these monks tend. However, referencing John the Baptist again, perhaps the period of isolation for a short period of time(atleast not a lifetime) is a way for someone to prepare themselves more full to spread the word. I am not very familiar with monastic life and I found the passage an interesting opportunity to reason monastic life using the opinion of someone who is clearly favorable towards it. 

Outrageous modesty

My favorite part of the first reading of the Vita Martini was the preface--for the elegance of its prose, for its outrageous modesty, but above all for the light its sheds on the extreme ambivalence of early Christian writers towards literary eloquence. This discomfort with rhetoric as somehow contrary to the spirit of a gospel "proclaimed by fishermen" is everywhere in Augustine, for example, from the eloquent anti-eloquence of the Confessions to the conflicted endorsement of beautiful expression in book 4 of the De Doctrina Christiana. (Did he and S correspond? I know that Augustine and S both corresponded with Paulinus of Nola, so there's only one degree of separation, regardless.) It's interesting to wonder to what extent this distrust of "flashy" language in Augustine and Sulpicius is specifically Christian, as opposed to Roman--one thinks of Cato's "verba sequentur". As far as Sulpicius' own style, its rolling periods are unabashedly pleasing, yet without sacrificing clarity or veering into obfuscation--"integer", as he might say, "ab iis vitiis" which Latin Christian writers most feared in rhetoric.

From Sam

The Gift of Loyalty

Apologies for the delayed post.  My interest in the Late Latin military was especially fostered this week with St. Martin's foray into the Roman army.  As was custom for Roman emperors of the 3rd and 4th centuries, loyalty of the troops was ensured by the so called 'donative,' a significant sum of money paid to each individual soldier on the emperor's accession and on significant days and anniversaries.  In fact, during the crisis of the third century, there are several short ruling emperors, Aemilian and Florian to name a few, who despite the gifts lavished upon their troops, soon found themselves betrayed and in most cases killed by the very troops who they themselves had just rewarded.  Of course, the new emperor, now supported by the troops, would give them a new donative and the cycle began anew.  In this particular case, Martin's refusal to fight because of his religion, in addition to being surprising to the emperor because of the large sum of money that awaited the future saint, but his anger (infremuit) may also stem from the fact that Julian was one of the last pagan emperors and most likely was none too happy about this man trying to get out of military service on account of his Christian faith.

St Martin and the Beggar

A very popular subject for artists through the ages.  Here are a few examples.

Höchst Castle, Frankfurt, Germany.  18th Century

Perhaps the creepiest:

El Greco, ca 1597.

From the National Gallery of Art:  The Chapel of Saint Joseph in Toledo, where this painting hung above the north altar, was established by Martín Ramírez, whose patron saint, Martin of Tours, is the subject here. As a soldier in Roman France, Martin cut his cloak in half to share it with a beggar he encountered. Christ later appeared to Martin in a dream wearing the makeshift cape and saying, "What thou hast done for the poor man, thou hast done for me." Martin was then baptized, and dedicated his life to Christianity. Venerated for his charity, he was zealous in making converts to the church.

The figures positioned in the extreme foreground loom as if perched on a high ledge, while the background recedes quickly to a distant vista—not of Amiens where the story took place, but Toledo. Time is likewise transformed as the fourth-century saint wears contemporary armor. These deliberate shifts of time and place hint at Toledo's role in the Counter-Reformation, suggesting that all Toledans should emulate the saint's charitable behavior.

A small replica of this subject, one of five known, may have been painted by El Greco's son, Jorge Manuel Theotokopoulos. It provides an instructive comparison with El Greco's own works. Here the brushstrokes are shorter and more hesitant; the elongated figures of the original are further distorted; and the saint's serene expression is transformed by the twisting curl of his lip.

Most like the story in Sulpicius in its simplicity:

St. Martin and the Beggar, detail from an altar frontal from Sant Marti de Puigbo, Gombren.  
Spain, 15th Century

Repetition and Consistency Can be Awfully Nice!

As we transition into Sulpicius, especially after having at times such a difficulty with Prudentius, I am relieved to find the same repetition that we saw in Prudentius but with much more consistency.  As in the Psychomachia, I find Sulpicius repeating the same words or similar words/phrases quite often.  The difference is that I am finding that we attempts to use every possible definition for these words, even when they are in close proximity to one another as Prudentius did.  I sighed a bit when I realized that once I look up a word for Sulpicius it seems, for the most part (obviously we just started to I don't want to blanket statement too much) that I will be able to use the same definition the next time I see that word.  He is fond of certain phrases too, and I mean really fond!  I have lost count of the number of times he begins a sentence with "tum vero" or a range of other conjunctions that seem to show up at the beginning of just about every sentence I have translated so far.  He is also incredibly fond of "mirum in modum," "in vice quodam," and to an extent "sub idem fere tempus."

I also found it interesting that he seems to use "civitatis" for city here as opposed to "urbs."  I am not sure if this is common in later literature, but I am fairly positive that I have not come across a work in my own studies yet where "civitatis" is chosen so frequently over "urbs," which shows up for the first and only time so far in Section 6, well into the work.  Perhaps I am making a bigger deal out of this than it is, but it certainly struck me as something different about this work.

Old Testament style

I find Prudentius' constant referral to the "old" testament and very minimal use of the "new" testament interesting. Almost every biblical allusion that has been used has come from the old testament, with the new testament being refereed to obliquely through the mention of Christ. However, Prudentius' tweaking of the stories from the old testament to better suit his purposes is also rather intriguing. He uses Biblical figures in ways that don't necessarily make sense (i.e. the weird us of David and  Jonathan) but perhaps in doing this he adds a shading to how we as the readers are supposed to see the vices. Jonathan as an example, he only gives into vice in as much as he doesn't obey Saul, but in other ways his "vice" is seen as a good thing by the rest of the army. However, the reference to Achar is actually a fitting reference. It seems that Prudentius is just trying to keep the reader off gaurd about vice and virtue and what they mean.

Allegory

Today was an interesting exercise in attempting to read the Psychomachia allegorically. The idea of one-to-one correspondences between properties of the soul and characters in the poem was already disrupted by the intrusion of Job, who seems like the odd one out in the midst of the poem's catalogue of virtues and vices. But today's reading was more subtly ambiguous, in that I ultimately remain undecided as to whether the actions of Avarice's minions (470-479) are intended as a minute description of the human psyche, or simply as a vivid set piece that serves no direct allegorical function. The former interpretation could be sustained by means of, in the case of the vices' treachery towards one another, Plato's opinion in the republic that the wicked or self-interested are unable to coordinate with one another, even to do evil. But on another level, this feels like the sort of inane eisegesis inflicted on poems by later interpreters, rather than their creators. Finally, I'd be interested to compare this scene with similar ones in Lucan, given both Prudentius' general fondness for him and the explicit invocation of Civilis Discordia.

From Sam

Manuscript illustrations

This will take you to a site with illustrations from an l1th century French MS  of the Psychomachia.

And this will take you to a twelfth century English MS of the Psychomachia.

A lasting memory?

I find the dichotomy that Supulcius Severus in his first section sets up between memory and life intriguing.  Since the human life is so relatively short, focusing on the here and now does seem to be an effective way to live rather than how you are going to be remembered.  As a Christian writer though, the importance of a pious life and one that follows the doctrine of Christianity is essential as well.  Perhaps I'm misreading, but I wonder if the focus on eternal life rather than eternal memory also touches on the Christian concept of heaven, in that your life (vita) will continue, just not on the earthly sphere.  I do not think though the living a good life and leaving behind a good memory of yourself are not mutually exclusive, but rather seeking the former is far more important than the latter.

Virtue and Vice: Cut form the Same Cloth?

As we near the end of our Psychomachia readings, I am finding it interesting that perhaps the image I now have of "Virtue" is not the image I previously had.  As someone who has never read the Bible and really only has minor experience with the more famous Biblical stories, to my mind "Virtue" was a concept of goodness and for some reason even peacefulness (I am not sure why I associate that with it, it actually may have something to do, embarassingly enough, with a character from a show i used to watch growing up, Charmed.  It was about "good" witches but there was "Whitelighter" character who by nature was a pacifist and for some reason when I think of "Virtue" that is the image that comes to mind).  Perhaps this is why I was a little surprised when I reached roughly lines 670-725 and found the Virtues to be vindictive and vengeful.  Naturally the entire poem is about the war between Virtue and Vice so it has been grisly and gruesome.  I found it interesting however, that when Discord enters into the ranks of the Virtues and attempts murder, Faith and the other Virtues essentially beat Discord down and "being unable to bear Discord's monsterous blasphemy, Faith 'shoves a javelin down Discord's throat.'"  The entire poem has been grizzly but this stood out to me as an almost "(eye roll) just shut up already, you are ruining our party and you tried to stab me so now I am angry, grrrr!" scene.  I suppose I just except Virtue, from the image I previously had, to be a little more excepting than that.  OK obviously Discord had to die because she tried to kill a Virtue but they literally rip her apart!  I guess this goes to show that everyone has a dark side, mwahahaha! (Just in time for Halloween)

Manuscript Discrepancy

Lines 727-729 appear in a 6th c. manuscript as: 

conpositis igitur rerum morumque secundis

in commune bonis, postquam intra tuta morari

contigit ac statione frui valloque foveri

pacificos Sensus, et in otia solvere curas,

exstruitur media castrorum sede tribunal

editiore loco, tumulus quem vertice acuto

excitat in speculam, subiecta unde omnia late

liber inoffenso circum inspicit aëre visus.

So now that a fair and happy state of circumstance and life has been established over all, now that the peaceable Sentiments can dwell in security under the protection of guard-post and rampart, and find relief in relaxation of their cares, a platform is set up at the midmost point of the camp on an elevated ground, a peak-topped hillock rising to make a look-out whence the eye can freely range afar on every side without obstruction.

I find it favorable. 

This is the rehearsal of the Psychomachia, complete with sex and drink and lute girls

Once the established bond was overthrown,

the elements themselves transgressed the bounds

laid down for them, plundering and destroying

all, shaking the world with lawless might.

Battling winds shatter the shady groves;

forests, uprooted by the wild blasts,                                                           240                            

come crashing down, while over here the raging

river’s swollen waters leap across

the banks placed opposite to check its path,

and wandering far and wide, the river rules

the devastated fields. But the Creator

did not plant such rage in His new world:

rather, the world's freedom, without check                                   245

or moderation, disturbed the peaceful laws.

And is it any wonder if the world’s

parts are shaken and spun about, or if

the machinery of the universe, shaken

by its own faults, is struggling, or if rot

wears out the earth? Human life provides

the pattern for other creature’s sin—human life![1]                       250

Madness and Error attend man’s every action,[2]

causing wars to rage, and fleeting Pleasure

to spread, Lust to burn with filthy fire,

and voracious Greed to suck down heaps of coins

with gaping jaws. No limit of acquiring                              255

slows Greed from adding hope for more

to the money she’s amassed. To bring forth gold

makes hunger for gold grow greater. Hence a harvest

of evils and the sole root of woes, while Ornament,

a pimp for dissipated Modesty, pans                                                          260

for gold in rushing streams and digs for hidden

ores, and foolish Self-Interest scratches in

the veins of the dirty earth, clawing up

nature’s hidden secrets. Who knows? Poking

around in the cracks, she might find sparkling stones.[3]

NOW WOMAN, not content with her natural beauty,                   265

puts on a false appearance; she even binds

pearly stones from sea-shells in her gleaming

hair, plaiting her braids with golden chains,

as if the hand of God, the master craftsman,

had left her face unfinished, forcing her

to decorate her brow with woven sapphires,

wind blazing gems around her unstained neck,

and weight her ears with dangling emerald stones.

It would be dull to run in detail through

the sacrilegious efforts made by married

women, who stain with dye the gifts with which

God endowed their forms. Their skin, all smeared

with make-up, has lost the beauty it once had,

impossible to know beneath its coat of false                                 275

color. Typical of the weaker sex!

Within the confines of a woman’s breast a seething

tide of sins batters the fragile mind.

And what about the fact that Man--the head

of a woman’s body, the king who rules the small

and fragile segment cut from his own flesh,                                  280

he who governs the delicate vessel with his

authority--Man too dissipates himself

in luxury? Look at the aging muscle-men

softened by refinement, men to whom

the Maker gave tough bodies and strong limbs

reinforced by bones. But they are ashamed

of being men and chase whatever vanities                                   285

will make them beautiful, and foolishly 

dissolve their native strength. Flowing robes

delight them—robes made not of sheep’s wool but of

silk, culled from the spoils of Oriental trees--

and embroidered patterns ripple over

their muscles. They have learnt the art by which                                     290

threads steeped in distilled herbs trick out

shapes with different colored threads. Fleeces

from exotic beasts, the softest to the touch,

are spun for yarn. This man, on the hunt,

chases after sexy tunics, weaving

feathery boas (a new fabric made from                              295

many-colored birds), while that gay fellow

wafts clouds of womanly scent and aromatic

lotions and imported powder. The Creator

placed our vital powers in our five senses:

Self-indulgence now controls them all![4]

The use we make of ears and eyes, of nose                                               300

and palate, is ruined by vice: even touch,

which rules our whole body, goes about

looking for the sweet caress of dainty

ointments.

O shame! Nature’s laws lie low,

her dowry dragged captive behind the tyrant                              305

Lust. Perverted justice flourishes; all

that the Almighty gave to men to own

they twist to different ends. I ask you,

was it to pollute its vision with gross

pleasure, to watch eunuchs’ shameless bodies

twirling in the cesspool of the theatre,                               310

that the watchful pupil was set below

the eye’s smooth lid?[5] Does our breath pass

through the conjoined tunnels, leading down

from the center of the brain’s high citadel

to our twin nostrils just so Pleasure, basely

bought, can revel in the sweet enticement

of a sexy whore shaking her perfumed hair?                    315

Did God open our ears and make a passage

for sound to penetrate their vaulted maze

so we could hear the lute girls’ useless strumming,

the sound of strings, and wild drinking songs?

Does taste exist within the mouth’s moist palate              320

so over-spiced exotic entrees can snare

the gourmand’s jaded appetite and greedy

palate, and make him spend entire nights

eating meals composed of many courses

and every kind of flavor, until his belly,

stuffed with food and wine, can take no more?

God wanted us to learn what’s hard or soft,

what’s smooth, and what is rough, what’s hot or cold                              325

by using an interpreter: our sense of touch.

But we heap downy pillows (what delight)

and linen fabrics that soothe and smooth our skin

upon our couches when we dine or sleep.

---

[1] Contrast this passage, in which the exemplum of man’s sin corrupts the universe, with the analogy of the sun earlier, in which the universe provides an exemplum to help man understand God. 

[2] In another example of enargeia, or writing that brings a visual image to the mind, Prudentius introduces a host of personified Vices, several of which appear later in the Psychomachia, a poem that is the first sustained personification allegory in Latin literature.

[3] After the troop of personified Vices, Prudentius turns to a stock theme from moral diatribes and satire:  the vices of women and homosexuals.  Women are attacked for their love of artifice, exemplified by make-up and ornament; effeminate men are accused of improperly abandoning their masculine qualities (self-control, strength) in their lust for luxury goods and feminine display.

[4] It was thought that the senses were gateways through which the soul could be attacked (cf. John Chrysostom On Vainglory and the Education of the Young 27; Prudentius here enumerates the assaults to which each sense is vulnerable.  Sight is by far the most dangerous of the senses, as it leaves the strongest impression on the mind.

[5] Prudentius describes the performance of a pantomime dancer.  The pantomime  (nothing like the comic modern pantomime tradition) was a wildly popular type of theatrical performance, from its beginning in the reign of Augustus through late antiquity.  The dancers were solo performers who acted out stories from mythology and tragedy, such as Orestes, Hippolytus, Herakles, and Medea, through gesture and dance, accompanied by a chorus of singers and musicians.  Christian writers perceived these performances as a particularly dangerous threat to the integrity of the Christian soul because of the pagan content, the gender slippage (males took on both male and female roles), and the strong emotions generated by the performances (see Webb 2007, a fascinating recreation and analysis of pantomime in late antiquity).

The Hamartigenia may have been the prequel to the Psychomachia

One and One and One is both Three and One

THE ORIGIN OF SIN

O TRAITOR Cain![1] Blasphemer! You who dare

divide our God in two, now how far down

in hideous ruin does madness hurl you? Don’t

you see that God is one?  Do thunderclouds

cover you in darkness? Unhealthy sight

is always pulled in two directions; double

vision plays tricks on you and thwarts your sight.[2]                                   5

You fool! Earthly images deceive you

with their double shape, and make you think

a God divided reigns above the heavens.

But though this filthy world, conglomerate,

confounds the differences between good

and evil, Heaven obeys a single God.

Two different kinds of actions, good and bad,

perplex the minds of humankind, and yet

it does not therefore follow that the heavens

lay claim to double monarchy. It is the outer                                10

man made from the earth who, when he looks

around, becomes convinced that there must be

two gods to rule such great disparity.

Because he thinks there is a God who long

ago made evil while another fashioned

all good things and brought them into being,                               15

he then asserts two Gods exist, supreme

but different in nature.

In the end,

what two-fold nature can exist or rule

for long if its hybrid essence keeps it

from the seat of power and cuts it off

by constant change of ruler? Either God

is one and holds the highest power,                                   20

or those that now are two are both diminished

by differences of substance. Now, it’s clear

that nothing is supreme if it’s not single and

omnipotent, since separate things claim power

each for itself, rejecting the other’s rule,

and so are not supreme and not almighty.

Alternating rule is not complete                              25

for what one holds, the other doesn’t.

Remove one stone: the pile grows smaller.[3] We

testify that God is whole and one

and indivisible;  in Him is Christ

who is likewise whole and one, who lives

and lived before all things, and will live, and

by sworn agreement, never share his power.                               30

The ruler who holds sway over every thing,

 the source sublime of virtue,  universal

fountainhead, the crown of nature, author

of beginning and of birth, is one:[4]

light, and time, and years, and number all

flow from God, who granted that a second                                    35

would follow after one: for numbers must begin

with one and one alone cannot be counted.

            And since there is no other God and Father,

and Christ cannot be second to the Father,

then  He alone who has a single Son exists

before all number. He is God, and rightly God,                              40

for He is first and one: first in power

and first in whom He sired. Now how does pure

generation make a difference?[5] Both

begetter and the one begotten from one

in the darkness of primeval chaos,

free of time and number, will always

be one.

WHO HAS DARED to say the power                                    45

that governs in single majesty and is

proper to itself, eternal from

before the world began, is two? Who dares

rip apart the force of a single nature?

Did the Father adopt a son, a second

of external origin, to make the number

two, a different being to  introduce

a second godly power? The true Son                                  50

embodied in the form of the true Father

keeps that form and shows that he is one.

No adoptive love allies them, no

sworn oath unites them, but sure loyalty

and a single nature, which is God, make them                              55

a single whole.[6]

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[1] Cain, whom we have seen in the preface making an improper division of his sacrifice, stands in for Marcion and by extension for other heretical thinkers who fail to comprehend the unity of God.  The divisiveness that characterizes heretical thought is compounded by the social effect of heresy, which destroys the unity of the Church.

[2] The first appearance of one of the key thematic elements in the poem, vision. Man’s imperfect vision leads him to incorrect perception of the true nature of the universe.

[3] Literally, separation (discretio) takes away from the heap (cumulum). Here Prudentius seems to refer to the paradox of the “heap” (Greek sorites).  If you were to place one bean on a table and ask someone if it is a heap, he would answer “no.”  What about two beans, or three, or five?  At some point—say, 100 beans-- the viewer will perceive the beans to be a heap.  If one were then to remove one bean, would the remaining 99 no longer be a heap?  The Stoic Chrysippus, according to Cicero, dismissed this paradox, claiming that the wise man knows when to stop replying to questions of the form ‘Are so many grains a heap?’

“That doesn’t harm me,”  he says, “for like a skilled driver, I shall restrain my horses before I reach the edge, all the more so if what they are heading for is a precipice.  In like manner I restrain myself in advance and stop replying to sophistical questions.”  Cic. Acad. 2.94 (Ierodiakonou 2006, 526).

Asserting, as dualist theologies do, that God’s power can be diminished is to formulate the question of divine unity improperly. 

[4] reading “simplex” instead of “pater” at 31.

[5] generatio simplex, “pure generation” implies generation from a single source or through a single channel, and is attributed only to God.  It is a key concept for Prudentius, who fills the Hamartigenia with examples of the problems that arise from generatio that is not simplex, which produces offspring that are not identical in nature with their parent.  The problem of evil is closely related to the issue of reproduction, for if God created man in his own image, how can we account for the presence of evil?  Dualists solve the problem by positing two gods who are unlike.  Prudentius here attempts to prove the unity of God.  

[6] In the next section (56-94) Prudentius argues that God has provided a visible symbol of divine unity, the sun, to give man a way to comprehend the divine unity.