THE IDEAL OF FEMALE BEAUTY.
“Hominum divûmque voluptas, alma Venus.”
Of this, the most perfect models have been created by Grecian art. Few, we are told, were the living beauties, from whom such ideal model could be framed. The difficulty of finding these among the women of Greece, must have been considerable, when Praxiteles and Apelles were obliged to have recourse, in a greater or less degree, to the same person, for the beauties of the Venus of Cnidos, executed in white marble, and the Venus of Cos, painted in colors. It is asserted by Athenæeus, that both these productions were, in some measure, taken from Phryne of Thespia, in Bœotia, then a courtesan at Athens.
Both productions are said to have represented Phryne coming out of the sea, on the beach of Sciron, in the Saronic gulf, between Athens and Eleusis, where she was wont to bathe.
It is said, that there, at the feast of Neptune, Phryne, in the presence of the people of Eleusis, having cast aside her dress, and allowing her long hair to fall over her shoulders, plunged into the sea, and sported long amid its waves. An immense number of spectators covered the shore; and when she came out of it, all exclaimed, “It is Venus who rises from the waters!” The people would actually have taken her for the goddess, if she had not been well known to them.
Apelles and Praxiteles, we are told, were both upon the shore; and both resolved to represent the birth of Venus according to the beautiful model which they had just beheld.
Such is said to have been the origin of two of the greatest works of antiquity. The work of Apelles, known under the name of Venus Anadyomene, was placed by Cesar in the temple of Venus Genitrix, after the conquest of Greece. An idea of the sculpture of Praxiteles is supposed to have been imperfectly preserved to modern times in the Venus de Medici.
We are farther told, that, after having studied several attitudes, Phryne fancied to have discovered one more favorable than the rest for displaying all her perfections; and that both painter and sculptor were obliged to adopt her favorite posture. From this cause, the Venus of Cnidos, and the Venus of Cos, were so perfectly alike, that it was impossible to remark any difference in their features, contour, or more particularly in their attitude.
The painting of Apelles, it is added, was far from exciting so much enthusiasm among the Greeks, as the sculpture of Praxiteles. They fancied that the marble moved; that it seemed to speak; and their illusion, says Lucian, was so great, that they ended by applying their lips to those of the goddess.[49]
“Praxiteles,” says Flaxman, “excelled in the highest graces of youth and beauty. He is said to have excelled not only other sculptors, but himself, by his marble statues in the Ceramicus of Athens; but his Venus was preferable to all others in the world, and many sailed to Cnidos for the purpose of seeing it. This sculptor having made two statues of Venus, one with drapery, the other without, the Coans preferred the clothed figure, on account of its severe modesty, the same price being set upon each. The citizens of Cnidos took the rejected statue, and afterward refused it to King Nicomedes, who would have forgiven them an immense debt in return; but they were resolved to suffer anything so long as this statue by Praxiteles ennobled Cnidos.... This figure is known by the descriptions of Lucian and Cedrenus, and it is represented on a medal of Caracalla and Plautilla, in the imperial cabinet of France. This Venus was still in Cnidos during the reign of the emperor Alcadius, about four hundred years after Christ. This statue seems to offer the first idea of the Venus de Medici, which is likely to be the repetition of another Venus, the work of this artist.” He elsewhere says of the Venus of Praxiteles, it was “the most admired female statue of all antiquity, whose beauty is as perfect as it is elevated, and as innocent as perfect; from which the Medicean Venus seems but a deteriorated variety.”
Flaxman states that he himself had seen, in the stables of the Braschi palace, a statue which he supposed might be the original work of Praxiteles. Strange to tell, nothing is now known of its fate! A supposed cast from this, or from a copy of it, conforming to the figure on the model of Caracalla, is to be seen at the Royal Academy.
Of the Venus de Medici, Flaxman says, it “was so much a favorite of the Greeks and Romans, that a hundred ancient repetitions of this statue have been noticed by travellers. The individual figure is said to have been found in the forum of Octavia. The style of sculpture seems to have been later than Alexander the Great.
Let us now briefly examine this Model of Female Beauty.
The Venus de Medici represents woman at that age when every beauty has just been perfected. “The Venus de Medici at Florence,” says Winckelmann, “is like a rose which, after a beautiful daybreak, expands its leaves to the first ray of the sun, and represents that age when the limbs assume a more finished form and the breast begins to develop itself.”
The size of the head is sufficiently small to leave that predominance to the vital organs in the chest, which, as already said, makes the nutritive system peculiarly that of woman. This is the first and most striking proof of the profound knowledge of the artist, the principles of whose art taught him that the vast head, on the contrary, was the characteristic of a very different female personage.[50]—In mentioning the head, it is scarcely possible to avoid noticing the rich curls of the hair.
The eyes next fix our attention by their soft, sweet, and glad expression. This is produced with exquisite art. To give softness, the ridges of the eyebrows are rounded. To give sweetness, the under eyelid, which I would call the expressive one, is slightly raised. “The eyes of Venus,” says Winckelmann, “are smaller, and the slight elevation of the lower eyelid produces that languishing look called by the Greeks ὑγρὸν.” To give the expression of gladness or of pleasure, the opening of the eyelids is diminished, in order to diminish, or partially to exclude, the excess of those impressions, which make even pleasure painful. Other exquisite details about those eyes, confer on them unparalleled beauty. Still, as observed by the same writer, this look is far from those traits indicative of lasciviousness, with which some modern artists have thought to characterize their Venuses. Love was considered by the ancient masters, as by the wise philosophers of those times, to use the expression of Euripides, as the counsellor of wisdom: τῆ σοφία παρέδρους ἔρωτας. One thing must be observed: there is not here, as in some less happy representations of Venus, any downcast look, but that aspect of which Metastasio, in his Inno a Venere, says:
“Tu colle lucide
Pupille chiare,
Fai lieta e fertile
La terra e’l mare.”
And again:
“Presto à tuoi placidi
Astri ridenti,
Le nubi fuggono,
Fuggono i venti.”[51]
Art still profounder was perhaps shown in the configuration of the nose. The peculiar connexion of this sense with love was evidently well understood by the great artist; and it is only gross ignorance that has made some persons question the appropriateness of that development of the organ which is here represented. Not only is smell peculiarly associated with love, in all the higher animals, but it is associated with reproduction in plants, the majority of which evolve delicious odors only when the flowers or organs of fructification are displayed.[52]—Connected, indeed, with the capacity of the nose, and the cavities which open into it, is the projection of the whole middle part of the face.
In the mouth, also, is transcendent art displayed. It is rendered sweet and delicate by the lips being undeveloped at their angles,[53] and by the upper lip continuing so, for a considerable portion of its length. It expresses love of pleasure by the central development of both lips, and active love by the especial development of the lower lip.[54] By the slight opening of the lips, it expresses desire.[55]
These exquisite details, and the omission of nothing intellectually expressive that nature presents, have led some to imagine the Venus de Medici to be a portrait. In doing so, however, they see not the profound calculation required for nearly every feature thus imbodied. More strangely still, they forget the ideal character of the whole: the notion of this ideal head being too small, is especially opposed to such an opinion. If more is wanting, it will surely be enough that the other works which we are supposed to possess of Praxiteles, the Faun and the Cupid, present similar fine details.[56]
Withal, the look is amorous and languishing, without being lascivious, and is as powerfully marked by gay coquetry, as by charming innocence.
The young neck is exquisitely formed. Its beautiful curves show a thousand capabilities of motion; and its admirably-calculated swell over the organ of voice, results from, and marks, the struggling expression of still mysterious love.
In short, I know no antique figure that displays such profound knowledge, both physiological and physiognomical, even in the most minute details; and all who are capable of appreciating these things, may well smile at those who pretend to compare with this any other head of Venus now known to us.
“With regard to the rest of the figure, the admirable form of the mammæ, which, without being too large, occupy the bosom, rise from it with various curves on every side, and all terminate in their apices, leaving the inferior part in each precisely as pendent as gravity demands; the flexile waist gently tapering little farther than the middle of the trunk; the lower portion of it beginning gradually to swell out higher even than the umbilicus; the gradual expansion of the haunches, those expressive characteristics of the female, indicating at once her fitness for the office of generation and that of parturition—expansions which increase till they reach their greatest extent at the superior part of the thighs; the fulness behind their upper part, and on each side of the lower part of the spine, commencing as high as the waist, and terminating in the still greater swell of the distinctly-separated hips; the flat expanse between these, and immediately over the fissure of the hips, relieved by a considerable dimple on each side, and caused by the elevation of all the surrounding parts; the fine swell of the broad abdomen which, soon reaching its greatest height, immediately under the umbilicus, slopes gently to the mons veneris, but, narrow at its upper part, expands more widely as it descends, while, throughout, it is laterally distinguished by a gentle depression from the more muscular parts on the sides of the pelvis; the beautiful elevation of the mons veneris; the contiguous elevation of the thighs which, almost at their commencement, rise as high as it does; the admirable expansion of these bodies inward, or toward each other, by which they almost seem to intrude upon each other, and to exclude each from its respective place; the general narrowness of the upper, and the unembraceable expansion of the lower part thus exquisitely formed;—all these admirable characteristics of female form, the mere existence of which in woman must, one is tempted to imagine, be, even to herself, a source of ineffable pleasure—these constitute a being worthy, as the personification of beauty, of occupying the temples of Greece; present an object finer, alas! than nature seems even capable of producing; and offer to all nations and ages a theme of admiration and delight.
Well might Thomson say:—
“So stands the statue that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.”
And Byron, in yet higher strain:—
“There, too, the goddess loves in stone, and fills
The air around with beauty;
within the pale
We stand, and in that form and face behold
What Mind can make, when Nature’s self would fail;
And to the fond idolaters of old
Envy the innate flash which such a soul could mould:
We gaze and turn away, and know not where,
Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart
Reels with its fulness; there—for ever there—
Chained to the chariot of triumphal Art,
We stand as captives, and would not depart.”
PROPORTIONS OF THE VENUS DE MEDICI.
Has seven heads, seven parts, and three minutes in height.
From the top of the head to the root of the hair, three parts.
From the root of the hair to the eyebrows, three parts.
From the eyebrows to the bottom of the nose, three parts.
From the bottom of the nose, to that of the chin, three parts.
From the bottom of the chin to the depression between the clavicles, four parts, three minutes and a half.
From the depression between the clavicles to the lowest part of the breast, ten parts, five minutes.
From the lowest part of the breast to the middle of the navel, eight parts, three minutes.
From the middle of the navel to the base of the belly and beginning of the thighs, eleven parts, four minutes and a half.
From the bottom of the belly to the middle of the kneepan, eighteen parts, two minutes.
From the middle of the kneepan to the beginning of the flank, twenty-seven parts, three minutes.
From the middle of the kneepan to the ground, twenty-five parts, three minutes.
The greatest height of the foot, three parts, five minutes and a half.
From the neck of the leg to the end of the toes, nine parts and half a minute.
From the commencement of the humerus to the elbow, twenty parts, two minutes.
From the elbow to the beginning of the hand, fourteen parts.
The greatest breadth of the forearm, five parts.
The greatest breadth of the arm, four parts, five minutes.
From the depression between the clavicles to the beginning of the deltoid, six parts, four minutes.
From the depression between the clavicles to the point of the nipple, ten parts and half a minute.
Between the points of the nipples, eleven parts, two minutes.
The breadth of the torso, at the level of the lowest part of the breast, fifteen parts, four minutes and a half.
The least breadth of the torso, at the commencement of the flanks, fourteen parts, one minute.
The greatest breadth of the torso, at the bottom of the flanks, seventeen parts, five minutes.
The breadth from the trochanter of one thigh to that of the other, nineteen parts, three minutes.
The greatest breadth of the thigh, nine parts, five minutes.
The greatest breadth of the knee, six parts.
The greatest breadth of the calf of the leg, six parts, three minutes and a half.
The breadth from one ankle to another, four parts.
The least breadth of the foot, three parts, three minutes and a half.
The greatest breadth of the foot, five parts and one minute.
The arms of the Venus de Medici, it should be observed, are of modern construction, and unworthy of the figure.
The Venus of Naples is of altogether a different species of beauty.
That figure represents an ample and rather voluptuous matron, in an attitude of scarcely surpassable grace. The character of the face is beautiful, in profile especially, and its expression is grave. The mouth has much of nature about it, resembling greatly in character that feature as seen in Southern Europe; but its expression, though tender, is somewhat serious or fretful.
It presents, however, many faults. The head is monstrous. The neck is equally so, as well as coarse. The forehead, eyes, nose, and cheeks, present none of the finely-calculated details, which surprise and delight us in the Venus de Medici. The mammæ are not true.
After these, the androgynous being, called the Venus of Arles, is scarcely worthy of being mentioned. She derives some grandeur from antique character and symmetry, and some from her masculine features. The head is monstrous; the neck horrid; the nose heavy; the mouth contemptuous.
Upon the whole, neither the graceful matron of Naples, nor the manlike woman of the Louvre, can be brought into competition with the Venus de Medici.