In a recent note, I collected instances of ‘stichometric allusion’, the technique in which poets allude, in one or more of their own verses, to source verses with corresponding line numbers.Footnote 1 The technique existed in Hellenistic Greek poetry, but seems more prevalent (or at least, detectable) among the Latin poets of the Augustan era, who applied it to Greek and Latin predecessors alike, as well as internally to their own work. New illustrations of each type may be added here to those previously brought to light.Footnote 2 Further examples, detected in an unsystematic fashion, no doubt lie dormant in published discussions and commentaries. Callimachus is still the only known Greek practitioner; perhaps his Roman successors considered the technique not merely Hellenistic but Callimachean. Authors of later ages employ the same techniques in equally haphazard fashion,Footnote 3 although this does not mean that they had necessarily noticed examples from antiquity.
Here I propose a new case in the pseudo-Virgilian Culex, which is more exact than any previously noted because it contains verbal parallels in two consecutive verses. The passage in question is 131–3:
The main model for these lines, directly or indirectly, may be the lost verses of Callimachus in which Demophoon was reproached for his faithlessness.Footnote 4 However, another, less commonly remarked modelFootnote 5 is Catullus 64.130–3 (the identical elements appear in the same lines, 132 and 133):
The features which these passages share – perfidy, repetition, vocatives – are typical of the so-called ‘neoteric’ style.Footnote 6 This is enough to explain why looking near the 132-line mark yields similar features in four other poems, two Ovidian and two pseudo-Virgilian, which incidentally all involve betrayal and reproach.Footnote 7 But it is very unlikely that the stichometric correspondence in the Culex is accidental. It involves the same repeated word, both times falling in the same metrical sedes (the author of the Culex inserts an additional perfidiam), and spanning the same – apparently arbitrary – line numbers. The authorship and date of the purportedly Virgilian Culex are still debated, though all agree that it postdates Catullus.Footnote 8 It is therefore a valuable case study for this recently identified compositional technique.
Few would deny that Roman readers of the Culex were equipped to detect such an allusion; a better question is whether they would consider it ‘allusion’ at all. The close relationship between these two poems is already well known. Overall, they are similar in length, and each contains a reproachful lament, also of similar length.Footnote 9 Ross has argued that the Culex is a parody of neoteric epic narrative technique, for which Catullus 64 is our prime example.Footnote 10 Furthermore, the Culex contains several incidental borrowings from Catullus 64;Footnote 11 it is no surprise to find Ariadne's epanaleptic cry among these, since it had inspired many imitations, including the two Ovidian examples which gave our author the phrase perfide Demophoon.Footnote 12 Wills traces its evolution, noting that perfide … perfide owes ‘a debt to Catullus’, just as perfide Demophoon owes one to Remedia Amoris 597 and ultimately to Callimachus.Footnote 13
For a reader who is highly sensitive to the relationship between Catullus 64 and the Culex, there are ample opportunities for finding ‘point’, which makes the correspondence an allusion. The Catullan passage is the opening couplet of Ariadne's impassioned reproach to Theseus, and thus very prominently placed, whereas the imitation in the Culex seems tangential to the main narrative, as if the author took pains to include it.Footnote 14 A catalogue of trees leads on to the almond tree, which is obliquely named as ‘Phyllis’, the girl who transformed into one; unexpectedly, as Seelentag points out, the poet then digresses even further from the context by apostrophizing her fiancé rather than Phyllis herself.Footnote 15 Yet Demophoon was the son of Theseus, and Roman poets frequently identified him as the heir of his father's deceitfulness;Footnote 16 thus, as Seelentag again observes, he constitutes an echo of Ariadne's lament.Footnote 17 From a Bloomian point of view, Demophoon – the infamous latecomer (posterius, 131) who failed to retrace his steps – is thus the ideal vehicle for an allusion to Catullus, a gesture of literary filiation tinged with anxiety of influence.Footnote 18
Yet the rich thematic possibilities of the Catullan allusion (upon which a psychologized reading rests) are far from explicit, and the stichometric correspondence can still be treated as a formal or visual phenomenon. Downplaying the allusive sensibilities of the Culex poet and his readership opens up the intriguing possibility of a method of allusion not inspired by thematic relevance. The overlap of only one syllable between the unrelated words deserto and Demophoon (and between the final syllables of aris and multis) is purely auditory or visual, with no real semantic import, implying that the author of the Culex engaged with the source text in a meticulous but localized manner. One possibility is that frequent recitation of the source text led to subconscious echoes in composition. Another is that the Culex author kept Catullus 64 physically present during the act of composition, drawing not only upon its content and stylistic properties but also upon its visual layout.Footnote 19 In both cases we would expect more extensive imitation of the model, though the preceding and following lines show no further similarities, and a smattering of other potential parallels are far less convincing.Footnote 20 As technology provides us with new ways to process and analyse text, further examples of stichometric allusion like the one in the Culex – whose thematic dimension is subtle and indirect – will come to light, and our understanding of ancient reading practices may consequently change.