A History of Roman Literature

by Harold North Fowler

And to my times continuous lead the song.

This great collection of myths became almost immediately, and has remained ever since, the chief source of popular knowledge of mythology. Poets and artists alike have drawn their conceptions of the ancient gods and heroes from Ovid even more than from Homer. The myths selected are those in which a metamorphosis, or change of form, takes place. Collections of the same sort had been made by several Alexandrian writers; but Ovid was apparently the first to arrange these stories in continuous order from the beginning of the world to his own time. The astonishing skill with which the transition from one tale to the next is accomplished, the rapidity and fluency of the narrative, the abundance of charming descriptive passages, and the never-failing variety of expression, make this one of the most remarkable of poems. The number of stories told is so great that a list of them would be tedious, but a brief mention and characterization of some of the more important among them will serve to show the scope and variety of the work.

After describing the creation, Ovid gives an account of the four ages (of gold, silver, bronze, and iron) of mankind’s deterioration and of the flood, from which only Deucalion and Pyrrha survived. Contents of the Metamorphoses. The story of Phaëthon’s attempt to drive the chariot of the Sun is told with great animation, though the poet’s display of geographical knowledge is somewhat out of place. The tale of the founding of Thebes by Cadmus is a striking example of narrative skill. More tragical in subject, and more dramatic in composition, are the stories of Pentheus, torn in pieces by the maddened worshipers of Bacchus, led by his own mother and sisters, and of Athamas, who is driven mad by Juno and kills his eldest son, while his wife Ino casts herself, with her son Melicerta, into the sea. Between these two stories are several less dramatic tales, among them the sentimental idyll of Pyramus and Thisbe, which is burlesqued in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. The deeds of Perseus, his rescue of Andromeda from the sea-monster, their wedding, with the quarrel that arose, and the turning into stone of Perseus’s enemies by means of the terrible Gorgon’s head, are narrated with vivid detail. The story of Proserpine, carried off by Pluto and sought all over the world by her mother Ceres, is enriched and retarded by the insertion of all manner of geographical, antiquarian, and mythological details. The tale of the pride and grief of Niobe is told with tragic pathos. In telling of Medea’s love for Jason, Ovid imitates to some extent the portrayal of her mental torments given by Apollonius of Rhodes,[83] and at the same time displays his own liking for rhetorical argument. The adventures of Cephalus and Procris, Nisus and Scylla, Dædalus and Icarus, and others, are more simply told. The story of the Calydonian boar-hunt and the death of Meleager, enables Ovid to show his ability in description, narrative, and psychological analysis. The charming idyll of the pious and hospitable rustics, Philemon and Baucis, rests the mind of the reader after the preceding tales of violence. The deeds of Hercules follow, then the story of Orpheus, in which are inserted numerous tales, as if told by Orpheus himself. The account of the terrible death of Orpheus is followed by the story of Midas, who turned all things to gold by his touch, and whose ears were changed into those of an ass because he declared Pan to be a better musician than Apollo. The transformation of Ceyx and Alcyone into sea-gulls gives the poet an opportunity to tell of and praise conjugal fidelity. The combat of the centaurs and Lapithæ is told at some length, with too many names and too little unity. Many tales are told in connection with the Trojan war. Among these, the strife of Ajax and Ulysses for the armor of

Achilles occupies a prominent position, and Ovid shows his rhetorical tendency by introducing set speeches by the two rivals in support of their claims. With the fall of Troy and the escape of Æneas, the poem begins to deal with Roman rather than Greek subjects. The earlier adventures of Æneas and others after the fall of Troy are, to be sure, still derived from Greek sources, but the stories of the combats in Italy and of the founding of Rome are no longer Greek. Near the end of the poem the Pythagorean doctrine of the transmigration of souls is set forth in considerable detail. Several Roman stories follow, and at last comes the account of Julius Cæsar’s ascent to the gods, and a prophecy of a similar fortune for Augustus. Then the poem ends with the lines:

And now my work is done; which not Jove’s wrath,

Nor fire, nor sword, nor all-consuming age

Can e’er destroy. Let when it will that day,

Which only o’er this body’s frame has power,

Make ending of my life’s uncertain space;