Fortunatus and Catullus

Nina J. Karlin
Brown University

Any student of Latin has read, translated or at least heard of Caesar, Cicero, Vergil, and Ovid. All these authors have been studied and well scrutinized by professors and scholars of the "classics." However, much talent exists also in unpopularized Latin authors. One such poet, Venantius Fortunatus, has been unduly ignored by the scholarly world. Close examination of his poetry reveals a wealth of brilliance. The expansive talent of Fortunatus is reflected in his style of writing, his provoking images and manipulation of the Latin language, and his complex exploration of a variety of ideas and themes.

Fortunatus' background is as varied as his poetry. He was born in Treviso in 540 A.D. and educated in Ravenna; in the mid-560's he departed from Italy (for various reasons-never to return again. During his travels over the Alps, through Western Europe, and finally in Paris, Fortunatus made contact with many different people. The experiences of his travels (and eventual settlement in Poitiers) form the core of his poetical creations. Some of his poems revolve around his Alpian travels, some concentrate on the role of saints, the interconnection of Christianity and spirituality, while others are solely devoted to political figures (e.g., Gogo, the aide of King Sigibert of Metz, and close friend of Fortunatus). Fortunatus also centers a number of poems upon two women, Agnes and Radegund, who profoundly influenced and shaped the course of his life. While Radegund prevailed as a figure of veneration (for Fortunatus), Agnes existed more as his sexual partner (or, at least, as a figure with whom Fortunatus shared physical and spiritual intimacies). A close reading of Poem 11.5, the first Agnes poem (11.6 and 11.7 are also Agnes poems) reveals the talent of Fortunatus as a poet, as well as his attitudes toward Agnes (i.e., his yearning for her return). Upon closer scrutiny and keen observation of Fortunatus' word usage, sexual imagery, and Catullan references, the reader comes to understand Fortunatus' physical desire for Agnes, his plea for moderation in her life, and most of all, the all-encompassing, multi-faceted power and influence of Agnes herself.

The first Agnes poem, 11.5, adopts the style of an epistle. Fortunatus uses it as a vehicle to induce Agnes to return home. At the time, Agnes was on a retreat, and far from any contact with society. Through this poem, Fortunatus urges Agnes to return to him: he wants to spend all his time with her and release his physical passions.

The very first word of poem 11.5, Dulce, carries strong sexual and erotic connotations. According to the Oxford Latin Dictionary, dulce can mean "sweet, beloved," as well as "fresh." Both physically and spiritually, Agnes brings sweetness into Fortunatus' life. Then too, water is a life-giving element; in this way, Agnes breathes life into and sustains Fortunatus. The Oxford Latin Dictionary also reveals that decus, when literally translated, can mean "that which beautifies;" however, it can also imply honor or glory. Agnes not only remains beautiful to Fortunatus, but also exists as a major part and distinguished glory of his life. Nostrum can refer to Fortunatus himself ("sweet glory of me"): in this case, it implies a desired, attainable possession. Nostrum may also refer to the union of both of them ("sweet glory of us"): thus, it strengthens Fortunatus' desire to resume his loving intimacies with Agnes. After such a powerful introductory phrase, Fortunatus follows with an even more complex reference to Agnes: Christi sanctissima virgo . . . . This phrase introduces his vision of Agnes as a spiritual and venerated force. Agnes is not just sancta but sanctissima: she is most pure, most sacred, and most holy to Fortunatus. Fortunatus' use of the superlative intensifies his vision of her, and also reflects Agnes' own influence and power. His use of the word virgo implies "maiden" or "virgin."

However, Agnes is not a virgin (if she and Fortunatus were lovers). By using virgo in this twisted way, perhaps Fortunatus is suggesting that Agnes is a pure woman-not sexually, but in all other aspects of life. Then too, according to the Oxford Latin Dictionary, a more offbeat meaning of virgo is: "a stream of water brought to Rome." In this sense, Fortunatus again associates Agnes with water imagery-she retains her life-sustaining properties. Interestingly, Fortunatus ties the image of virgo to Christ (Christi sanctissima virgo). The melding of sexuality with spirituality very powerfully reflects Agnes' influence and powerful sway upon Fortunatus. Such a union also suggests a passionate element intricately tied to worship. Thus in just the first six words of the poem, Fortuantus introduces a vast wealth of complex images.

Fortunatus begins the second line of the poem with her name, and associates her with permanence and endurance (manes). Although Agnes is momentarily shut off from Fortunatus, she remains a permanent force in his life. In fact, her separation from his creates a void, and a lack of inspiration in his own life. Interesting is Fortunatus' use of inmaculata; this word can imply "stained," or "unstained," as well as "polluted," or "not polluted" (e.g., it can imply spirituality (staining) or it can relate to the realm of nature (pollution)). Fortunatus uses this paradoxical term to represent Agnes' power: she is both holy and unpure, light and dark, as well as in and out of Fortunatus' life. These striking contrasts also reinforce Fortunatus' feeling of alienation, and void of inspiration (when Agnes is absent), as well as his strength (when she is present). Ultimately, he desires her permanence in his life (manes means "you remain"). Meritis stems from mereo, which can mean "deserve, earn or to be free from guilt." In one sense, meritis may refer to Agnes' clean conscience; however, meritis may also relate to Fortunatus and his sense of earning or deserving Agnes' return. Fortunatus intended this unclear and paradoxical line, for it reinforces the complexity of emotions and thought occurring within him.

This line also directly refers to Catullus' poem 62. In this poem, a wedding feast has ended, and a group of young women and a group of young men begin a singing competition. Although they are separated from each other, each group can see each other: the two groups talk in strict correspondence. Eventually, the young men silence the women, and end the competition with their talk. Catullus' Poem 62 reveals much about ancient Roman rituals, explores conflicting views of marriage, and exposes the tensions between chastity and the deflowering of a young bride.

The words virgo . . . inmaculata manes directly correspond to sic virgo, dum intacta manet . . . in poem 62. This phrase occurs in line 45, near the end of the women's argument against marriage. The women view marriage as detrimental: through marriage, sexual intercourse occurs (which breaks the sexual integrity of a woman). The women defend virginity via the image of an unplucked flos. The flower, when it is unplucked, remains tied to nature: it is protected and can grow. However, as soon as it is plucked, it withers away and loses its inner and outer beauty. Such an image mirrors the intacta virgo. The maiden remains desirable as long as she is intacta, i.e., has not experienced sexual intercourse. Just as a plucked flower loses its bloom, a woman, when she has been touched (tacta) loses her purity, her wholeness, her virginity. The phrase sic virgo dum intacta manet also occurs in line 56 of the men's excerpt of poem 62. The mean praise marriage, and view it as crucial to the stability of society. Through the image of an untended vine, they proclaim that a virgo is only desirable when married. Just as an untended vine grows old and withers, so too does an unmarried virgo. When, however, a vine becomes attached to a tree, it grows-just as a maiden flourishes upon marriage (and loss of virginity). Ultimately, the men end their image by proclaiming that a maiden's virginity is only one-third her own (the other two-thirds belong to her mother and father, respectively).

Fortunatus' reference to these conflicting arguments (which are conceived in agricultural terms in poem 62) is both interesting and complex. Poem 62 invokes Hymenaeus, the god who unites man and woman in legitimate, divine sanction of marriage. However, Fortunatus and Agnes are not married, and have experienced a sexual relationship: does this connote illegitimacy? Fortunatus' use of sanctissima and inmaculata, however, seem to deny any thought of unholiness or illegitimacy. Then too, Fortunatus' use of virgo is filled with as much conflict and tension as it is in poem 62. Agnes, indeed, is most holy to Fortunatus; but, nevertheless, in realistic physical terms, she is not a virgin (for she has involved herself in a sexual relationship with Fortunatus). Such a complex and twisted use of virgo in poem 11.5 relates to tensions associated with this word in poem 62.

It seems that Fortunatus veers toward the attitude of the men in Catullus' poem. In spirit Agnes may still be a virgo, but in reality, in physical terms, she has been deflowered. However, even though she has lost her maidenhood, she still remains inmaculata, unstained and unpolluted. Just as an attached vine grows and a married woman flourishes-so too may Agnes, upon continuing her attachment to Fortunatus. In this way, Fortunatus subtly hints for Agnes' return and resumption of sexual relations. They need not feel guilty (meritis), for such activity is natural, pure, and unpolluted (inmaculata). Through reference to agricultural imagery, Fortunatus reveals how he may cultivate Agnes, and help her to grow: she will not exist as inculta (from the men's rejoinder in Catullus' poem 62) if she remains a partner with him. Interesting is the relation between inculta (line 56 of poem 62) and inmaculata (line 5 of poem 11.5). The removal of the three letters, "ma . . . a" from inmaculata yield inculta. Such word manipulation further strengthens Fortunatus' pleas for Agnes' return-while untouched and alone she will grow old; however, if she remains with Fortunatus, if she allows Fortunatus to "touch" her, she will flourish in an unstained, guiltless manner. To Fortunatus, sexual relations exist as a positive, necessary part of life, just as marriage and loss of virginity (in the men's rejoinder of poem 62) contribute to the stability of society. One last complex significance remains in Fortunatus' reference to poem 62. In the end of the men's rejoinder, they proclaim that a woman's virginity is only one-third her own; the other two-thirds belong to her parents. Perhaps by invoking this reference (i.e., he seems to side with the men's argument), Fortunatus strengthens his own argument for her return. Agnes' virginity is not entirely her own-she belongs to Fortunatus (nostrum) and should remain (manes) with him forever. By referring to poem 62 of Catullus, Fortunatus reveals his physical desires for Agnes and intensifies his plea for her return.

By alluding to poem 62 and its strong agricultural imagery, Fortunatus stresses the union of nature to spirit, sexuality, and stability. The holiness, fertility, and enduring power of nature extend to Agnes. Sexual activity is natural and does not stain sublime Agnes. Then too, by alluding to poem 62, Fortunatus makes a statement concerning marriage. Perhaps Agnes was the type of woman Fortunatus would have liked to have married. Or, perhaps he realized (upon Agnes' retreat and separation from him) that he did, indeed, want to marry her. Then too, even more plausible is Fortunatus' implication that he was married to Agnes spiritually.

Lines 3 and 4 add to Fortunatus' yearning sexual desires and pleas for Agnes' return. He is not clear where she is, but wants the attention (opem) he is accustomed to receiving from her (solitam). Solitam, distribuisses, and opem all carry sexual connotation. Solitam stems from the verb soleo (be accustomed, used to), while opem can mean attention, loving, and companionship. Agnes' opem completes and fulfills Fortunatus' own life. Then too, the word sol is enclosed with solitam. Agnes' attention / power / body (opem) also has qualities of the sun (nature): it gives life and sustains Fortunatus with its powerful beams. An instrument of nature, Agnes and her sexuality keep Fortunatus alive. Distribuisses, when literally translated, means "you had distributed." It connotes strong sexuality, for it implies a dispersion of an object-perhaps, Agnes' very own body. In this sense, opem can then refer to Agnes' sexuality. Interestingly, this phrase begins with tibi and ends with opem; ensheathed in the middle of the thought is mihi. Just as Fortunatus is surrounded by Agnes' power in the structure of the poem-so too does her passionate sensuality and power envelop him in reality.

Lines 5 and 6 further illustrate the sexuality and power of Agnes. Because of Agnes' separation, Radegund no longer receives "sweet melodies of the tongue," and is no longer nourished by the words of Agnes. Thus, Agnes not only sustains Fortunatus, but also gives life of Radegund. (Indeed, Agnes is an instrument of nature.) Agnes' sexuality and spirit are inextricably linked. She is sexual both "in" and "out": in a physical sense ("out") her sexuality sustains Fortunatus, while in a spiritual, interior sense ("in") she supports Radegund. Without Agnes, both Fortunatus and Radegund case their own flowering and growth.

Sexual nuances abound in these two lines and further support Agnes' sensuality, passion, and power. Dulcia carries connotations of sweetness and moisture (i.e., life sustaining). Linguae may refer to Agnes' ability to sustain Radegund through her language and speech. Interestingly, Fortunatus uses lingua in another of his poems, which begins Pange lingua . . . . In this poem, lingua implies a passionate element existing in worship. This concept relates back to Fortunatus' merging of Agnes to Chris (Christi sanctissima virgo). Indeed, her sexuality has far-reaching powers. Then too, modulamina (literally translated) means "melodies;" contained within this word is another word, modus. Not only is Agnes' sexuality reflected in a melody, but it is the means, the method, and the way of sustaining life for Radegund and Fortunatus. Ore tuo also carries sexual nuances, for literally, it means "by your mouth" (the mouth can be one of the principle organs of the body to participate in the sexual act). It is also the means by which Agnes creates melodies for Radegund. Finally, pascitu can mean "nourish"; in this sense, Agnes nourishes Radegund via her friendship and sweet melodies. However, pascor can also mean "feed, feast upon, delight in." Agnes' words nourish Radegund, but it is Fortunatus who feasts upon (literally and figuratively) and delights in them. Implicit in this idea of feeding is a dependency-Fortunatus depends upon Agnes, as a sexual partner. Thus, although these lines refer to Radegund on the most superficial level, they can also be interpreted in relation to Fortunatus.

It is also interesting to note that pastoral/agricultural element in pascor. Fortunatus begins the entire poem with agricultural imagery (in reference to poem 62 of Catullus), and he continues it with his word. When her maidenhood is touched (tacta) for Fortunatus, Agnes grows; so too does Fortunatus and Radegund (physically and spiritually, respectively). Everyone benefits and thrives via the open sexuality. (In the same respect, married virgins create a flourishing, stable society-men's rejoinder of Catullus 62.) Fortunatus' use of pascor inextricably links the agricultural, spiritual, and sexual worlds and further demonstrates Agnes' power.

In lines 7-8, the reader learns that Agnes has abstained from eating; however, her fasting has more greatly affected Fortunatus than herself. Abstinuisse implies sexual nuances-by going into retreat, Agnes has withdrawn from any sexual contact with Fortunatus. And, just as she has stopped nourishing herself with food, she has cut off nourishment for Fortunatus. Interestingly, Fortunatus begins line 7 with abstinuisses and ends the sentence with fames. Agnes' abstention from food has caused a hunger, an insatiable desire within Fortunatus. Finally, the phrase est mihi facta fames reveals the active and passive roles and the locus of power in the relationships. Through use of the phrase, "a hunger has been done to me," Fortunatus reveals that he remains in the passive role, while Agnes plays the active part. Only Agnes retains the power to change Fortunatus' position (i.e., by discontinuing her fast and returning to him).

Interestingly, fames remains the central word of the poem, both technically and analytically. This poem has sixteen lines, and fames occurs at the end of the eighth line. Lack of sexual exchange (for Fortunatus), and lack of spiritual connection (for Radegund), spurs Fortunatus to write this poem to Agnes. He wants Agnes' own retreat/hunger to cease, and thereby stop the hungers it has created in others.

In lines 9-10, Fortunatus warns Agnes that Extremism may not be the best way. In other words, if Agnes continues as an extremist (i.e., referring to her continual retreat), she may lose everything. In line 9, Fortunatus refers to poem 63 of Catullus. In poem 63, the main character, Attis, flees Greece; because of his extreme and fanatical devotion to the goddess Cybele, he castrates himself. The loss of his testicles leads to his sterility (and estrangement from nature) as well as loss of sexual identity. After his manic phase has ended and a new day arises, Attis realizes the implication of his actions. Subsequently, he becomes ruefully penitent and disillusioned by his devotion to Cybele. Ultimately, he becomes Cybele's permanent slave, and can never resume a normal sexual life back in his homeland. By referring to this poem, Fortunatus warns Agnes of the distinct outcome of her actions. He does not want Agnes to lose everything as Attis did.

Line 9 of Fortunatus' poem directly links to the moment of horrific discovery in Poem 63, line 39 (radiantibus oculis) and line 42 (somnus . . . citus). In poem 63, the sunrise wakes Attis up from his slumber and night of frenzy. The sunrise brings with it the dawn, a symbol for sanity. The coming of the sun, with its strong beams, awakens Attis from his slumbering: upon surveying his situation, he belongs to the sun, but in poem 11.5, the radiant eyes belong to Agnes. Then too, in poem 63, the sleep is quick (citus), whereas in poem 11.5 the sleep is slothful (iners). These slight distinctions reveal that Agnes herself has the power to change her situation (and not lose everything); she once again plays the active role. Sleep and all that is associated with it (frenzy, mutilation, fanaticism) is slow to creep upon Agnes. Moreover, her eyes are radiant and possess a power like the extensive rays of the sun. Her circumstance differs a bit from that of Attis, for she is capable of changing her situation. Her own eyes can awaken her to the situation, and warn her of the possibilities of a continued retreat. She is her own sun, just as she existed as an instrument of nature earlier in the poem. Fortunatus very effectively uses these Catullan words in a different order and with different associations to warn Agnes of her possible doom and of her power to change it. He does not want her fanatical religious devotion to cause her downfall, as it did for Attis.

Line 9 begins with audio and ends with ocellos. Such words of sensation reinforce Fortunatus' own separation from Agnes and loss of contact with her. HE can neither hear nor see her when she remains secluded in retreat. Erotic nuances abound in this line. Ocellus, a diminutive, represents a term of endearment; it also contributes to the face, mouth, and lip imagery running through the poem. (Interestingly, this same word was frequently used in such a manner by Catullus.) Then too, both radiantes and pressit carry sexual connotations in their basic meanings.

In line 10, Fortunatus continues his reference to Catullus 63 with a question directed to Agnes. He asks her if she wants to await so many nights (her retreat in a cave precludes her from seeing the day). Fortunatus reminds Agnes of the frenzy and fanaticism of the night and the impending doom it carries. To much night, too much retreat, and too much separation may cause Agnes to lose all that she has. Nimias emphasizes the danger inherent in extremism and the lack of control that may result. He anticipates her return to him, just as she should not anticipate too many nights. She has been in the dark, away from him for too long-it is time to return. By using volis, Fortunatus again reveals Agnes' power to change her situation: no one controls her, and she has the ability to choose the course of her life. Thus, through reference to Catullus' poem 63, Fortunatus most effectively warns Agnes not to live as a fanatical extremist, and shows her that she controls and can change her situation.

In lines 11-12, Fortunatus continues to goad Agnes to cease her seclusion and return to society. Agnes leans toward extremism: she spends long periods of quiet, and the night remains no different from the day. Tempora translates into "times," however, according to the Oxford Latin Dictionary, it can also mean "dangerous circumstances." Agnes' seclusion from society may turn into a dangerous situation. Quietis literally means "rest" or "quiet," but it can also refer to "sleep." In this sense, it evokes the sleep of Attis, and the uncontrollable, extremist frenzy that brought about his doom. Such long periods of sleep should not be a substitute for normal social recourse. For Agnes, day and night are the same: the night holds what the day duplicates, and each twenty-four hour period remains one long night.

In lines 13-14, Fortunatus continues with his nigh imagery, and seems to end with an uneasy resignation. In line 13, he proclaims that all the clouds cover Agnes and that she can see neither the moon nor stars. Not just one cloud, but all the clouds over Agnes. However, as tego can also mean "hide," the clouds hide Agnes from reality and the light of day. Blinded by night and clouds, she has lost her sense of reality, sense of perception, and could potentially end up like Attis. In fact, the clouds conceal Agnes so much that she can no longer see the moon and stars (which exist as extremely bright, clear, and visible objects in the upper atmosphere). In line 14, Fortunatus conveys a resignated emotion: he has tried his best to convince Agnes to return, but if she prefers to remain in retreat, he will accept it. Fortunatus' use of laeta conveys a stark contrast: Agnes may be happy with her situation, but Fortunatus is anything but happy. Very interesting is Fortunatus' use of fugiunt in referring to himself. Just as somnus once fled Attis (Catullus poem 63), so too may clouds and all their associations (mist, night, sleep) flee Fortunatus. Agnes' own retreat and frenzy has been transferred to form clouds and confusion in Fortunatus' life. However, he resigns to proceed with his life once he learns that she is happy (however, he can only discover her state of mind through some type of contact with her). Fortunatus strategically places the me in the middle of the line. It is enveloped by Agnes' animo on one side, and the clouds of his own life on the other. If he learns of her happiness, however, his own life will be freed from both these clouding elements. Although he desires Agnes' return, Fortunatus seems to have accepted a resignation (he will be content if Agnes is happy).

Fortunatus ends the poem with one last plea for Agnes' return. Although he accepts the possibility of her never returning, he relays the strong feelings of Radegund. The quae of line 15 refers to Radegund: Radegund has ordered Fortunatus to write and send the poem. Agnes has spiritually nourished Radegund in the past (via their friendship); Radegund homors and cultivates such joys. The joys Radegund experiences when being with Agnes are real and genuine: Agnes brings true light into her life (Agnes is like the sun). Moreover, Radegund believes in Agnes so deeply that she would choose to die with her ('be led under the citadel of the sky," ducta sub arce poli). This may be, perhaps, the greatest proclamation of friendship one may offer to a friend. By ending line 16 with poli, Fortunatus ends the poem on a spiritual/religious note. Agnes' presence inextricably connects to many realms: sexual, physical, intellectual, spiritual, as well as religious.

The vivid writing, word usage, imagery, and manipulation of language distinguish Fortunatus as a master poet (on a level with Catullus). The ferocity, reality, and rich complexity of his poetic verses brilliantly reveal the life he lived and the emotions he experiences as a lover and a Christian. Indeed, according to Fortunatus, language (and an offshoot of verbal art, text) have the power to offer presence: they recreate the moment for the reader. Through very close reading of poem 11.5, the reader comes to realize the emotions and attitudes of Fortunatus as a lover, of Radegund as a friend, and of Agnes as an all-encompassing, complex power. On its most basic level, this poem can be considered a plea for Agnes' return. However, beneath the superficial covering, a multitude of emotions as well as the all-pervasive influence of Agnes are revealed. Both Fortunatus and Radegund desire Agnes' return: however, Agnes alone retains the power to change her situation, case her seclusion, and end the ever-present fames.