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  • Propertius 2.3: The Chaos of Desire1
  • Christopher C. Spelman

Propertius 2.3 has not received much scholarly attention in recent years, and, in one sense, the unwillingness of critics to address themselves to this elegy comes as no surprise: in exploring his inability to resist love (1–8), the poet first denies the power of his mistress’ beauty (9–16), but later, without explaining why, focuses on her loveliness as the very thing that attracts him (23–44).2 The structural damage this mysterious change of mind apparently wreaks on the poem’s logical coherence allows commentators to treat it as a largely unexamined whole whose inconsistencies require no further scrutiny than to remark that Propertius has once again failed to achieve narrative consistency.

Though few would deny that Propertius’ elegies often resist a smooth reading, treating this poem as a type rather than a unique work is not an adequate response—first of all, because it leaves the question of why [End Page 123] the poet changes his mind conspicuously unaddressed. This goes beyond the question of unity; it concerns the structure of desire and why its object, though scorned, returns triumphant. Surely this elegy deserves a closer look.

In my approach to the poem, I shall, after briefly demonstrating that the contradiction not only exists, but is central to the poem’s construction, examine a dense cluster of metrical and rhetorical anomalies that indicate that what compels the elegiac speaker to desire incessantly is not the woman he loves but beauty as a separated object.3 To investigate why this object is at once irresistible and fundamentally unsatisfying, I shall have recourse to the work of Jacques Lacan. This theoretical frame will allow us to disclose the underlying dissonance of the speaker’s desire and probe the thematic integrity of the Melampus exemplum with which the elegy concludes (51–54).

Propertius 2.3 begins with an unidentified voice chiding the poet for the failure of his declared resolution to eschew the torments of love (1–4):

“Qui nullam tibi dicebas iam posse nocere,     haesisti, cecidit spiritus ille tuus! vix unum potes, infelix, requiescere mensem,     et turpis de te iam liber alter erit.”4

“You kept on saying that no woman could get to you; now you’re caught, your arrogance has fallen by the wayside. You miserable fool, you can barely give it a rest for one month. Now there’ll be another disgusting book about you.”

Richardson (1977 ad loc.) identifies the speaker as either Propertius talking to himself, or a friend who knows his troubles well. Richardson prefers the former possibility; as I argue below, I feel that the ambiguity is deliberately insoluble. [End Page 124]

Propertius explains his erotic recidivism by drawing a parallel with nature: for him to live other than as a lover is as essentially impossible as for animals to change their habitats (5–8):

quaerebam, sicca si posset piscis harena     nec solitus ponto uiuere toruus aper; aut ego si possem studiis uigilare seueris:     differtur, numquam tollitur ullus amor.

I was trying to find out whether a fish could live on dry sand or a wild boar—beyond all expectation—in the ocean; or whether I could stay up all night in ascetic pursuits; no love is ever gotten rid of—it’s put off.

By equating his pursuit of asceticism with the perversion of nature, Propertius conversely aligns his participation in love with what is natural. No matter how hard he tried, love proved irresistible, and the reason is that the natural order, which is made to include him as lover, is inevitable.

But Propertius emphasizes that his mistress’ beauty is not responsible for his return to love (9–16); what truly captivates him, he claims, are her artistic talents (17–22):

quantum quod posito formose saltat Iaccho,     egit ut euhantis dux Ariadna choros, et quantum, Aeolio cum temptat carmina plectro,     par Aganippaeae ludere docta lyrae; et sua cum antiquae committit scripta Corinnae,     carmina quae quiuis non putat aequa suis.

It’s really that she dances beautifully when the wine has been brought to the table, just as Ariadne led the frenzied chorus, and that, when she begins a...

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