Virgil's Epic Designs: Ekphrasis in the Aeneid (review)

This is a book about ekphrasis, about the Aeneid, about ancient Greek and Latin literature, about poetry and poetics, and about the ways in which literature can affect the way we live our lives. But most of all, it is a tremendous book on the Aeneid.

The six chapters focus on notable points of ekphrasis: Dido's Murals, the Cloak of Cloanthus, Daedalus' Sculptures, Silvia's Stag, the Shield of Aeneas, and the Baldric of Pallas. The dominant figure characterizing ekphrasis in the Aeneid is synecdoche: that is, ekphrasis, Putnam shows us, serves as a mise en abîme in the Aeneid, in which the circularity of ekphrasis both interrupts and comments on the narrative linearity of epic (97, 204, passim). Ekphrasis and epic complement and analogize one another, and therein Virgil is teaching us about major themes of the Aeneid. The most abstract of these themes can perhaps be paraphrased as follows: epic poetry is linear, historical, teleological, and temporal; ekphrasis, something of a lyric mode within epic, is circular, repetitious, and atemporal. The linearity of history becomes a falsifying teleology, a deceptive myth of progress. This is counterbalanced by the ekphrases; their circularity, both in form and content, points to the circular, cyclical nature of history--there is, in the end, no progress (see, e.g., 31, 42, 46, 61, 154-55, 209).

Most of what I think is important about ekphrasis is in this book; moreover, much that I had never considered before now seems obvious, after reading it. I cannot, however, summarize the book, and what follows is an exhortation, rather than an outline. The force of Putnam's analysis does not lend itself well to summary, even his own--it would be a mistake to read merely his introduction and conclusion. Reading Putnam I am reminded of William Blake's Assumption of Total Significance, as named and brought to us again by the linguist Háj Ross: this is the assumption that any and every aspect of a text (or other work of art) has the potential to be of the utmost importance. Putnam proves this by his own practice, tracing threads of meaning and resonance from the specific details of the language of the text, with interpretation both bold and securely grounded. In doing so, he shows and recommends a fruitful, almost Emersonian, faith in the individual passage as a microcosm (as synecdoche, as a mise en abîme), a faith borne out in spades by his analysis. At times, some readers will not accept his interpretations, but this is not a problem. Putnam invites us to go with him on a slow, careful walk through the Aeneid; if we do not see what he sees, that is fine; but he tells us carefully, forcefully, and with great clarity why he himself sees it. Those who are rapid readers may thus not understand the significance of this book and may likely give it short shrift: the best of it cannot be skimmed. But then such rapid readers are very unlikely to understand or care about poetry, especially Virgilian poetry. The details of Virgil's language and the detail of Putnam's discussion are what will, in William Carlos Williams's phrase, "startle us anew."

It is most useful, then, to give a sample, but it is not easy to choose. To my mind, the most compelling chapter is that on Daedalus. The association of Virgil and Daedalus is powerfully illustrated; Putnam argues that in Daedalus Virgil is giving us his own "spiritual and psychic" biography as an artist. Neither artist can idealize, neither can bring to completeness, neither can accept the tempting comfort of beauty, the "veneer of charm over terrible truths," and neither can help but see "nature's final pyrrhic triumph over art" (e.g., 84, 91, 94, 95). I quote an...