Dido and Aeneas. Ancient Roman fresco in the National Archaeological Museum of Naples; fresco from the House of Citharist in Pompeii, Italy (c. 10 BCE–45 CE)
How does our re-reading of favorite texts and images change over time, as the world changes around us? Like so many readers before me, I’ve always noticed how Virgil presents the queen of Carthage as a strong, intelligent ruler and civic planner who “plans her escape, collects her followers” and their treasures: “and a woman leads them all.” (1.440-448). By the time Virgil shows us Aeneas’s inspection of her achievements, the “ramparts” of the “new city of Carthage” are rising, along with the “gates,” “laws,” “harbor,” and “theatre” (1.510–519). After Aeneas, having inspired her passion and learned from her example, abandons her to found his own new city, I used to thrill to their passion, and think I could only mourn her self-destructive suicide.
But today, driving into work and listening to the radio stories of women assaulted and raped, I thought about Dido differently. Where does the fire of her passion come from? I wondered if I could read it differently: Venus plopping Cupid into her lap, forcing love on her, telling him to “breathe [your] secret fire into her,/ poison the queen and she will never know.” (1.818-820). “She will never know–“ I thought of her listening to the tales of assault and Roofies. Giving sexual targets Rohypnol and other drugs if they’re not aware of it, I think, that’s rape. So do I think Venus has arranged for the rape of Dido so that Aeneas can gain power? I didn’t think of it this way before, but I did this morning. I wouldn’t quite say Rome was founded on rape, but the thought occurred to me. I rejected it, but I thought it.
And then I thought, parking the car and getting out: Where do the Romans find the other founders of Rome, the women who bear their children? That’s the Rape of the Sabine Women, isn’t it? The historian Livy (59 BCE–17CE) tells their abduction this way: “When the hour for the games had come, and their eyes and minds were alike riveted on the spectacle before them, the preconcerted signal was given and the Roman youth dashed in all directions to carry off the maidens who were present. The larger part were carried off indiscriminately, but some particularly beautiful girls who had been marked out for the leading patricians were carried to their houses by plebeians told off for the task.”
Still thinking about the women whose defeat built Rome, I looked “Sabines” up in the index to our edition of the Aeneid and I found that Virgil treats this incident as an important factor in Aeneas’s triumph, depicted on his shield by the god Vulcan: “the workmanship of the shield,/ no words can tell its power… […] and the Sabine women brutally/ dragged from the crowded bowl when the Circus games were played” (8.738–739, 748–749). Not a game for them, as the translator’s words “brutally” and “dragged” suggest. The end of the story is supposed to be a happy one: years later, the women prefer to remain with their abductors and the families they have established. Our edition’s introduction by scholar Bernard Knox is more upbeat than the translation by Robert Fagles that it precedes, pointing out that “the Romans carried off the Sabine women to marry them” (34). As classicist Mary Beard points out, Roman plots involving rape “are not now best known for their subtlety. The ‘happy ending’ to some of [Plautus and Terence’s comedies] can appal modern readers: ‘Good news — the rapist was her fiancé all along'” (202). There’s no happy ending here for Dido, of course, whatever the Sabines’ decision.
But the image of that “so-called rape” stayed in my mind from a picture by Nicolas Poussin, a painting I knew and was shocked by as a child, because it’s in my hometown of New York at the Metropolitan Museum of Art:
Nicolas Poussin, The Abduction of the Sabine Women, oil on canvas (probably 1633-4)
These women are being taken to increase the power of Rome. Their twisted limbs, their signals to their husbands, their forced abandonment of their children and parents at the signal from the red-clad ruler on the pillar – that’s rape to me.
So how does this change my reading of Dido? I used to think the two ways I had of seeing her were in conflict – the leader and builder, the self-destructive victim. But now I think that if she went on the radio with her story, Dido would say: Look! Even capable, intelligent, strong women can be taken advantage of, in the power structure I know.
I’ll hope that message can make changes.
Works Cited
Beard, Mary. SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome. New York: W.W. Norton, 2015. Print.
Livy. History of Rome. Trans. Canon Roberts. New York: E. P. Dutton and Co, 1912. Print.
Virgil. The Aeneid. Trans. Robert Fagles. New York: Penguin, 2006. Print.
Vivian Folkenflik is an emeritus lecturer in the Humanities Core Program, where she taught for over three decades. She is the editor and translator of Anne Gédéon Lafitte, the Marquis de Pelleport’s novel The Bohemians (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009) and An Extraordinary Woman: Selected Writings of Germaine de Staël (Columbia University Press, 1992). She is also the author and archivist of our program’s institutional history at UC Irvine. Her thought and teaching have been at the center of many cycles of Humanities Core, and she continues to act as a pedagogical mentor for seminar leaders in our program. She has blogged previously for the Humanities Core Research Blog on the intersection of race and gender in past course texts.
There are a couple of very interesting arguments in this article. I’m not sure if I agree with everything. Need to spend more time thinking about it. Anyway. I just wanted to say, great article. Very thoughtful! Please write more!
I am thoroughly interested and intrigued by the argument that is presented. I enjoyed the tone and first-person perspective as it gives the reader a backstory of how this claim was built. As much as I enjoyed this blog post, there were a few moments where I questioned the word choice. From my understandings and Professor Zissos’ claim, women were seen as chaos and men as order. This misogynistic perspective on women strengthens the patriarchal hierarchy and the submissive relation women have to men. The idea that a powerful woman, like Dido, could lose her status due to her feelings connects to Greek philosopher Plato’s idea that women are capable to think abstractly; however, it is their body’s desire that makes them inferior to men. Women were seen as courageous if they refused to embody femininity. In return, because Dido’s emotions are described as “self-destructive”, Dido loses her powerful status. Furthermore, I was interested in the usage of the word “rape”. The word is loaded with heavy, negative connotations. While reading this blog, I thought the word was being used wrong. The reason why I argue for another word to be used instead of “rape” is because the word is sexually connected to sexual assault. Although many of the women, of this time, did perhaps experience this type of assault, how the word is used in this blog does not accurately represent that meaning. The word that came to mind better was consent. The idea of consent. In my perspective, Dido loses her personhood. Dido did not give her consent to have love forced on to her. The idea of consent also connects to the idea of personal violation for personal gain. Throughout the blog, there is the recurring idea that women are taken away, without consent, as a way a for men to gain power. This type of personal violation and loss of personhood for another individual’s personal gain, in my perspective, is not rape per se but the lack of consent and will.
I very much appreciate the way you have framed both my own first-person perspective and your own. I think this blog gives us an opportunity to think through our own interpretations. The term “rape” could often be used of one country that is forcibly invaded or taken over by another — for example, the expression “rape of Belgium” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rape_of_Belgium — not to be confused with the issue of women who might have been physically assaulted and sexually raped “in” Belgium. I am hoping, as I think through the issues raised by this blog and by your own posting, that women who have been raped (in our sense of the word) will not feel that they have lost their “personhood.” I would agree with you that Dido feels she has lost her being as a person; but I hope we can encourage women who have been subject to this kind of assault to keep valuing themselves, as persons and as women. Your emphasis on consent makes me hope for the best.
Upon reading about Dido, I believed that Dido’s love and suicide was unfortunate but was also determined by the gods. I did not see it as a rape but i do understand the idea of rape hidden within the Aeneid and even within the Roman Empire. As seen in these paintings, I was appalled but also aware of the fact that women were secondary to males within the patriarchy. The fact that Juno is seen enraged, causing chaos to Aeneas and the people involved does invoke a stereotype of women that, according to Zisso’s lecture, cause chaos wherever they go. In Dido’s case, however, being respected and diligent in her role as a ruler of Carthage, suddenly becomes a pawn by the will of Cupid and without any regard for her feelings and her own actions, Jupiter also disregards her and encourages Aenas to leave her. In her response, although dramatic, death causes her own chaos in which the people of Carthage and the Romans develop a strong hatred towards one another and go to war because of that. All in all, It’s really interesting to see how Virgil perceived women and how you were able to decipher (within the text) a sensitive issue that is still very relevant to today.
Hi, Gwynette. For centuries, people have cared about Dido — smart,capable, beautiful, a leader — but feeling that she must destroy herself after being unknowingly seduced with Venus’s” “poison” help , and abandoned by the hero who is destined to establish an empire of his own. The sensitive issue is there for your generation now. You will come across many stories to decipher with yourself and your friends.
Thinking about Aeneas and Dido’s relationship with the topic of sexual assault in mind was a perspective I had not previously thought about. I had not considered the fact that Cupid’s intervention took away Dido’s ability to give uninfluenced consent. Typically when there is divine intervention, the actions of the Gods is not questioned or critiqued as much as the characters’ resulting actions. Upon reading the Aeneid for the first time I blamed Dido for overreacting, but I took the Gods’ actions at face value and did not blame them for her resulting actions of suicide. It is interesting how this can be related to modern day, as many rape victims end up get blamed for what happened to them or how they cope with the reality of what has happened. Aeneas and the Gods are not questioned for following fate, but Dido receives all of the blame for her reaction to Aeneas leaving. If anything, this post further brings to attention how even though an immense amount of time has passed between the time of Virgil writing the Aeneid and today, we still struggle today with some of the same issues of placing blame without taking into consideration other perspectives or not questioning why people may be reacting the way that they are.
I’m interested in your comment on divine intervention: can the gods’ actions be criticized? You might take this one step farther thinking how different the Greek/Rroman polytheistic system is from a monotheistic system. For the Romans, there were many gods, some on your side, some not — for reasons you might not know. So that’s one answer: you might criticize (even if just to yourself) the intervention of one who had acted unfairly by you or your people, through no fault of your own On the other hand, that could be a very dangerous thing to do… It’s an interesting system.
I agree and disagree on parts of this post. First, this had me seeing a different perspective on how Dido is treated and what kind of character Virgil wanted to create. Sure she was tricked into loving Aeneas by Cupid and Venus, but that is through a divine level of thinking. If viewing from human views, maybe she saw a handsome man (Aeneas) and simply fell in love at first sight. All women, no matter how strong can succumb to love if the right person comes along. She fell in love with Aeneas but sadly Aeneas couldn’t give back the role of staying by her side. I agree that in Ancient Rome, woman were certainly raped whether there was consent or not. The ancient times consisted of patriarchy and misogyny. Women were looked down on everywhere, not only in Ancient Rome but Ancient China, Middle East, and the indigenous people of America as well. Women were only seen as mothers of children or object of pleasure. They were treated like objects that can be thrown away and abused. All great empires are built on these types of misconducts, even though history textbooks seem to hide it and only show the good side.
More and more history books are being written by women and by men who take women’s experience as vital to the histories they are constructing. I am hoping that strong women today will be more likely to see loving as active, not as succumbing. But if they are given or using anything that counts as Cupid’s “poison,” succumbing may be the word ! Thank you for this thoughtful response. Here at uci you will develop your ability to evaluate the old “textbooks,” as you have already begun to do.
In reading this, I admit I’m not all too surprised. It did occur to me at one point that the role of Dido in Aeneas’ life is not one she willingly chose, but rather one that was bestowed upon her by the Gods. This event thus justified the conflict between Rome and Carthage in the Punic Wars. It is also not the only story the ancient Romans had that explained the foundation of something through victimizing women.
In mythology, the goddess of spring, Proserpina (Persephone in Greek), is the reason for the change of seasons. Pluto (Hades) kidnapped the goddess with the intent to keep her and make her his queen. As some stories say, she was tricked into eating food of the Underworld and forced to stay. Because her mother pleaded with Jupiter and threatened the world with famine, she was allowed to leave for half the year, but she always needed to return. For the time she was gone, her mother would mourn and crops would die, but when they were together, plants prospered, thus creating a seasonal pattern.
It is interesting to me to think that such an empire many people would say was one of the “greats” viewed women as objects they can manipulate like chess pieces. The world has come a long way since then. Yes, there will always be those who hold on to these same ancient views, but as more stories of rape and sexual harassment surface, more and more flock to the side of the victim rather than looking past it. It is a constant reminder to me of how fortunate we are to live in an era in which people are banding together to fight such misogynistic views.
Your thoughtful comment relaxing the Dido story to Persephone/Proserpina opens new perspectives for me, too. It frames both stories as explanations for the readers’ lives: why the seasons change, how the Roman Empire was founded. Both stories involve women as tricked into sexual involvements. The kidnapping of Proserpina can be seen as a rape event (since the word means abduction or invading by force also) but in her case, she had strong family support (her mother did not give up on her) and we can perhaps accept her role as queen and celebrate her return every Spring a beautiful victory.. Dido has support from her sister, but it does not seem to be enough, and she feels too alone. These women have very different stories. But your connection has given them a new light for me.
The whole of roman beliefs as depicted in the Aeneid seems to be based off of a power that men held over women. the entire plot seems revolved around two female gods quarreling over the fate of Aeneas , with the final decision always winding up in the hands of Jupiter. no matter how hard she tries, Juno is unable to alter his fate and save her beloved Carthage. Her and Venus’ meddling only seem to make matters worse for the city, as they cause the tragic death of queen Dido. if the story is looked at as human beings who fall in love for each other, and the betrayal of one causes the other such great heartbreak that they decide to kill themselves, then that person is a tragic victim. in the Aeneid however, we come to learn that people are rarely in control of their own actions. it is through the use of cupid that Dido is essentially forced to fall in live with Aeneas. and it is through the will of Jupiter that Aeneas abandons her. This book acts as a way to tell of gods disputing with each other trough meddling with human affairs, therefore Dido in this text is forced into this relationship and eventually meets her demise as a result.
Your remark that Venus’s actions only make things worse”for the city” is a great starting point. Which city would that be? Does Venus care about Carthage? If she can get to care about any people beyond her two sons, her concern would be Rome, and Rome will be destroying Carthage in the Punic Wars. Aeneas must care about the city and empire of Rome, not Carthage. That would be Dido’s job, after all she has built for her people. I am hoping that thoughtful response like yours will make it more possible for women to see how much they still have to contribute in the world, after personal disaster. See what you think in real life.
Initially, when I had read about Dido’s suicide, I thought it was a bit dramatic and illogical to a point I mentally rolled my eyes at the reasons why she had killed herself. Truthfully though, I had already forgotten that it was never actually Dido’s fault from the beginning. Before reading this post, I never thought about how Dido’s situation could be related to rape and found it even more intriguing how such an old text could be connected to a topic today’s society could relate to. When I was reminded that Cupid came down from above and actually manipulated Dido into falling in love, I was partially mind-blown when this particular scenario was connected to Roofies, thereby establishing the connection between Dido’s suicide and rape. Furthermore, this post also brought my attention to just how unfortunate Dido’s downfall was. I was solely focused on the suicide; however, after reading this post, it saddens me how such a superior female figure of great authority has fallen victim, especially after building such a reputation after so long. Overall, I truly thought this blog post was eye-opening.
I came to my own reaction listening to the radio from a somewhat different perspective but I smiled when I read you say that you initially thought of Dido’s suicide as “a bit dramatic” — distancing yourself — and that you “mentally rolled [your] eyes].” I realize right now as I’m replying to you that after many years of teaching the Aeneid, I mentally rolled my eyes too, just for a moment. I had students who thought she was a drama queen. But no! She is a queen, and she’s done a lot for her people, “for so long” as you say. I think listening to the NPR radio piece opened my eyes, too. I can appreciate how much sense Virgil gave us of her great achievements and courage, but I hope today we could help a woman feel less abandoned in her situation, and more aware of her value to her community and to herself.
I think if we look back at many ancient mythologies or legends of the past, the idea of women forcibly being taken to be married to king or other people of power would appear far too often. We would discover numerous instances women going through the same situation as Dido or even the Sabine women because in ancient times it was not seen as something unusually to be done. That doesn’t necessarily mean it was right for those people to take those women and essentially rape them, I’m simply saying that if we try to view their actions through the perspective of those that lived in that era or time, they may be disturbed or uneasy at the act, but not horrendously appalled that such a thing occurred. I could be wrong and that the people of ancient times were as disturbed by those abductions and rapes as we are now, but it seems as if not much or barely anything is being done to stop it.
I agree with you, Paiam, that our responses may be very different “if we try to view their actions through the perspective of those that lived in that era or time.” I think that’s really an interesting point. I started this blog by asking myself: How does our re-reading of favorite texts and images change over time, as the world changes around us? You might find some evidence that women feared and mourned being taken and becoming slaves when their city was invaded or defeated: at the center of the Greek tragedian Euripides’ play _The Trojan Women_ (415 BC) is Andromache, once Prince Hector’s wife and now a slave to the Greek son of Achilles. But still, they lived in a different world. I’m wondering if we are living in a moment of great change. I wonder if it will be different for your generation. I saw Dido through a new lens when I heard that piece on the radio. I’m still wondering.
I think that your interpretation of Cupid’s influence over Dido to make her fall passionately in love with Aeneas as being a form of rape is very interesting and eye opening. At first glance, most of us readers disregard the role Venus and Cupid play in Dido’s infatuation and subsequent demise; it’s almost as if we victim blame Dido and forget that her actions were not motivated by her own will, but rather the gods. Seeing Dido, the epitome of a strong, competent ruler, transform into a lovesick, hysterical person who cannot live without the love of one man was certainly frustrating to witness. In that sense, I can bridge how rape, or just a violation of your own will and freedom, can break anyone. And by breaking others down, one can gain immeasurable advantages (I noticed how it wasn’t until Dido was “raped” and she committed suicide that Aeneas was able to progress onto the more vital part of his journey). It is disappointing to see how Rome’s patriarchal culture deemed women as disposable and backdrops for the more important individuals, men. So when you said that you definitely thought for a moment that Rome was founded on rape, that thought also crossed my mind as well. Women existed in history and I’m sure many of them led lives worth telling, but the fact is that in terms of ancient Roman history, many of their stories are ignored and it is more common to hear about the grievances women suffered rather than the accomplishments they made. Rape is undeniably a physical act, but I also feel that it can be psychological. The Romans “raped” the image of women, relegating them to mere props (as Dido was to Aeneas) or ruining their legacy with negativity. I think that as a result of patriarchal culture, we see Medusa as a bitter, ugly antagonist and Dido as a obsessive, drama queen (no pun intended) despite the fact that they were wronged and a victim of others’ actions rather than their own. After reading this post, I definitely admit to my own skewed view of Dido and now I see her story in a much more empathetic, tragic light. She didn’t ask to fall in love with Aeneas, she didn’t ask to have her life thrown away, and she definitely didn’t ask to be a mere backdrop for Aeneas’s story.
For a moment, you and I shared that initial reaction: was Rome “founded” on rape? and then we had to think what we had meant, and why. I like your own development of the concept when you say: “The Romans “raped” the image of women, relegating them to mere props (as Dido was to Aeneas) or ruining their legacy with negativity.” And I am particularly interested in your conclusion that Dido “definitely didn’t ask to be a mere backdrop for Aeneas’s story. am hopeful that responses like yours will help show women that their lives don’t need to be “thrown away” in such situations. Dido still had a lot to contribute to her society and even (if she so chose to marry) other suitors. It gives me hope to see your response. We have more resources than Dido’s sister Anna did, in her time and place. We’ll see what your own generation can do!
Reading this post was very interesting, as I also thought of rape when first reading this passage. I loved your evidence of women in Rome being ‘raped’, as it shows how women were taken advantage of and placed in a very low position in society. This makes it apparent to the reader of the injustices women face throughout history, and that they deserve to be treated equally. Though Dido is a very good example of female empowerment, I can’t help but think that Virgil’s strong depiction of her while writing The Aeneid is meant to be of ill-intent. In addition to the portrayal of the Sabine “women who’s defeat built Rome”, I think Virgil made Dido strong just to emphasize the fact that men can easily make women fall in Roman society. It reveals how inferior the women were treated and makes Aeneas seem more powerful and great by comparison. It’s a really sad way of thinking about it, but I can’t help but think about the unfair patriarchy during the reign of Rome. However, in modern day, most of society’s views on women has changed for the better, pushing for female empowerment. I think texts like these help people today see the faults in treating people unfairly based on not just gender, but race and sexuality as well, as we become more open and accepting to people’s identity.
Andy, I posted a reply to you when I was in NYC, but I’m not sure it went through. You pose an inteeresting problem. I particularly admired your saying both that “Virgil’s strong depiction of her while writing The Aeneid is meant to be of ill-intent” and that in important ways, “Virgil made Dido strong.” I see both your statements as true: he does want Dido and her city Carthage to be totally defeated [delenda est], and he has given her the remarkable strengths from which young Aeneas must learn. In a way, we admire Virgil for imagining a woman with such strengths as queen, but we also protest the unfairness with which she is treated, and her own sense that she has no more to do in this world. I deeply share your hope for people today becoming “more open and accepting to people’s identity.” May it be so!