Hunters of acrostics have had little luck with Horace. Despite his manifest love of complex wordplay, virtuoso metrical tricks and even alphabet games,Footnote 1 acrostics seem largely absent from Horace's poetry. The few that have been sniffed out in recent years are, with one notable exception,Footnote 2 either fractured and incomplete—the postulated PINN- in Carm. 4.2.1–4 (pinnis? Pindarus?)Footnote 3—or disappointingly low-stakes;Footnote 4 suggestions of acrostics are largely confined to the Odes alone. Besides diverging from the long-standing Roman obsession with literary acrostics,Footnote 5 Horace's apparent lack of interest is especially surprising given that Virgil, his contemporary, friend and ‘poetic pace-maker’,Footnote 6 was at the time conducting what seems to be a systematic adaptation of Hellenistic acrostic-poetics into Latin poetry.Footnote 7
This paper offers a new perspective. I identify two acrostics in Horace's Satires which I believe to be deliberate, highly allusive and deeply intertwined with the subject matter of the passages and poems in which they are found.Footnote 8 These acrostics both appear at moments when Horace's poetics, politics and career progression are under negotiation; they add yet another layer of complexity to Horace's characteristically slippery self-definition in the Satires, and tap into a rich source of intertextual dialogue with both real and imaginary poetic contemporaries.
THE WRONG SORT OF DOCTVS AMICVS: SAT. 1.9.24–8
Horace, sauntering through Rome, is accosted by a distant acquaintanceFootnote 9 desperate to worm his way into Horace's circle of friends and patrons. An excruciating comedy of manners ensues: the pest besieges Horace with increasingly pathetic attempts to prove his personal and poetic worth, to assert common ground between the two of them, and to persuade Horace to take him for an ally and introduce him to Maecenas. The hapless Horace, meanwhile, constrained by his own politeness, does all he can to reject the pest's overtures of amicitia—to no effect, until he is saved by the deus ex machina of an impending lawsuit (and/or Apollo: sic me seruauit Apollo, 1.9.78).
Patronage in Satires Book 1 rests on a delicate web of interpersonal connections: whom you know, how (and how well) you know them, and whom they might know in turn. Rather than introduce yourself to a prospective peer or patron, you must hope that well-connected friends will vouch for your good character and arrange an introduction; if your taste, morals, references and resumé suit, you might succeed (1.6.52–64).Footnote 10 The joke of Sat. 1.9 is that the tactless pest is hyper-aware of these social nuances and necessities, yet utterly inept at putting them into practice. Trying, with misplaced confidence, to insinuate himself into the centre of Horace's social circle, he addresses Horace with the overfamiliar dulcissime rerum (4), and presumptuously asserts noris nos … docti sumus (7). Horace's reply is politely non-committal (pluris | hoc mihi eris, 7–8), but the narratorial voice tells a different story (notus mihi nomine tantum, 3); he will later try to shake off the pest by drawing rude attention to his exclusion from Maecenas’ in-crowd (quendam … non tibi notum, 17; non isto … quo tu rere, modo, 48–9).
The third bout of conversation between these ill-matched interlocutors sees the pest redouble his efforts to inveigle himself into Horace's circle of friends, patrons and clients (Sat. 1.9.22–9):
Here the precise term for the status sought by the pest reappears as an acrostic: the first letters of lines 24–8 spell out AMICO, repeating the word from its place two lines earlier (amicum, 22). The close proximity of the acrostic to the same word in the text should be enough to qualify it as noteworthy;Footnote 11 that it is a keyword of crucial importance for the poem (for what is Sat. 1.9, if not a discourse de amicitia?) puts its significance almost beyond doubt.
In the light of this acrostic's presence, the theme of recognition and knowledge that runs through Sat. 1.9 assumes a more self-referential hue: the pest's declaration si bene me noui (22) looks suspiciously like a nod to the upcoming acrostic.Footnote 12 There are other clues to the acrostic's presence too. The phrase pluris amicum (22) takes on additional meaning: there is indeed more ‘amicus’ to be found in this passage. The pest's alliterative onslaught (Viscum …. Varium … uersus; pluris … plures … possit; membra mouere mollius; citius … canto, 22–5) focusses attention on initial letters throughout this passage, and membra mouere (24) is a good kenning for alphabet games as well as for dancing.Footnote 13 The end of the acrostic is signalled by a morbid pun. When Horace asks after his relatives, the pest replies blithely, ‘I've buried them all’, omnes composui (28); the verb here denotes the gathering of cremated bones and ashes to be placed in a funerary urn.Footnote 14 But in the Satires, of course, componere carries a more natural sense of literary composition (componere uersus, 1.4.8; incomposito … pede currere uersus, 1.10.1);Footnote 15 it implies, too, the completion of a task.Footnote 16 The pest's unnervingly casual answer signals on a metapoetic level that the acrostic has reached its end. And finally Horace, eager to end the pest's effusions, scores a decisive line under the acrostic in the first word of the next line: confice, ‘wrap it up’ (29).Footnote 17
What of the change in case from amicum to amico? Taken together, the two words hint at the idiom amicus amico, an expression of reciprocal friendship and quid pro quo favours: ‘you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours’.Footnote 18 The pest argues in this passage that Horace should be to him as Varius was to Horace, so that one day the pest might take up Varius’ role and help Horace himself; he repeats the point explicitly a few lines later (haberes | magnum adiutorem …, 45–6). The acrostic makes a case for the reciprocity fundamental to both friendship and patronage—or perhaps, if the non that begins the preceding line (23) is included in the phrase, forcefully disavows it instead.Footnote 19
Acrostics are the unmistakeable product of an erudite writing style: intricate, laborious, artful. They are unavoidably textual, demanding a visual medium for both creation and perception;Footnote 20 their presence is proof of slow and detailed poetic composition. In a genre that proclaims itself to be plain off-the-cuff chatter (sermo merus, 1.4.48), they are distinctly out of place. Horace goes to great lengths in Satires Book 1 to conceal his poetry's considerable learnedness and literary sophistication behind a façade of unpretentious casualness, or even ineptitude.Footnote 21 He meanders: his plots are disguised as happenchance (forte, 1.9.1), his phrasing as improvised speech. The sheer textuality of the AMICO acrostic comes up hard against satire's illusion of orality, particularly in a poem which presents itself as doubly oral, an anecdotal retelling of an original dialogic encounter. Spread over the two speakers’ voices and the narrator's interjection (interpellandi locus, 26) as well, it draws attention to Horace's post-factual crafting of the encounter into a narrative.Footnote 22
But Horace's relationship with the Hellenistic polish implied by acrostics is notoriously difficult to pin down.Footnote 23 Besides the clear traces of elaborate and careful composition throughout his poems, he explicitly promotes key Callimachean virtues, refitted for times of political and social uncertainty:Footnote 24 careful revision (1.4.11), brevity (1.4.17–18, 1.10.9), reticence and judicious silence (1.6.123, 1.9.12), pathological terror of verbosity (1.9.29–34), avoidance of the common mob in favour of elite seclusion (1.4.133–9, 1.6.60–1). He appropriates Callimachus’ metapoetic tropes for his own polemics: Lucilius’ ‘muddy flooding’ (flueret lutulentus, 1.4.11; cf. 1.1.54–60), for example, replays Callimachus’ Euphrates (Hymn 2.108–9), and at 2.6.14 he recreates Callimachus’ fat livestock and slender intellect (Aet. 1.23–4; cf. Verg. Ecl. 6.4–5). Horace's favourite epithet for his admired poetic peers is the Hellenistic virtue of erudition: nil mi officit … | ditior hic aut est quia doctior (1.9.50–1), and later complures alios, doctos … amicos (1.10.87). Indeed, his sarcastic dismissal of simius iste … doctus in the poetic manifesto that closes Satires Book 1 (1.10.18–19) makes it clear that he objects not so much to Callimacheanism per se as to the stale neoteric imitation of what was, in Callimachus, genuinely innovative. His disgust is reserved for the ‘unoriginal epigones’ of greater poets, who ape their stylistic mannerisms but take on none of their verve or wit.Footnote 25
The contest between pest and poet in Sat. 1.9 is waged on the battlefield of poetics as much as on that of social graces.Footnote 26 (It is no coincidence that the deity that saves Horace at the end of Sat. 1.9 is Apollo, Callimachus’ admonitory god of poetry from Aet. 1.24.) Throughout the poem, the pest stakes his claims to Horace's attention on his poetic abilities: he claims to be as accomplished a poet as Horace himself, equally deserving of Maecenas’ patronage. But, like his other boasts,Footnote 27 his tactics here are spectacularly self-defeating. His bold self-introduction, noris nos … docti sumus (7), starts off on roughly the right track—but his actual poetry, it emerges, is the precise opposite of such Hellenistic finesse: quis me scribere plures | aut citius possit uersus? (23–4). The pest tries and fails to walk the fine line between Lucilian overproduction and Callimachean doctrina.Footnote 28 His speech later in the poem is a parody of neoteric preciousness;Footnote 29 like the despised simius iste of the following poem, too, the wellspring of his creativity runs dry, as he mouths others’ poems (canto, 1.9.25; cantare, 1.10.19) as well as composing his own.Footnote 30 Horace, the picture of tact, never directly lays claim to doctrina: he does not include himself in his homages to his docti amici (1.9.50–1, 1.10.87, 2.4.88), and doctus is outright ironic elsewhere in the Satires (1.5.3, 1.10.19, 1.10.52).Footnote 31 But the AMICO acrostic allows Horace to best his neoteric opponent at his own game: it is a real show of doctrina on the part of the poet, tacitly (tacitus, 1.9.12) enrolling him among the greats—to the exclusion of the prolix pest.
VIRGILIAN LEISURE AND IMPERIAL POETICS: SAT. 2.1.7–10
At the opening of his second book of Satires, Horace declares that he is at an impasse: his poetry is criticized now for its excessive satirical pungency, now for its enervated and diluted feebleness (nimis acer, 1; sine neruis, 2; mille die uersus, 4).Footnote 32 Fighting a war on two fronts, he sees no clear path to victory (quid faciam?, 5). Trebatius—a jurist by profession, here playing the role of Horace's ad hoc poetic counsellor—offers a solution drawn from Horace's first collection: retreat into absolute silence (5–6). Horace pleads insomnia (cf. 1.5.14–15);Footnote 33 Trebatius recommends his idiosyncratic version of clean living: vigorous daily exercise and wine before bed.Footnote 34 If Horace still cannot keep pen from paper, Trebatius advises, he should abandon satire and instead write pure praise of Augustus (Sat. 2.1.5–12):
Acrostic OTIA in lines 7–10 underscores Trebatius’ advice: a life of leisure (otium), filled with exercise, wine and deep sleep, leaves no room for the anxieties of satire-writing.Footnote 36otium is a near-synonym for quietus: the acrostic reprises Trebatius’ first brief reply, quiescas (5), while Trebatius’ longer response in these lines gives a more expansive explanation of his reasoning (7–12). Again, Horace drops clues. He commands Trebatius to tell him what to do: praescribe (5), a fitting idiom for a lawyer, with the sense of an authoritative legal rulingFootnote 37—but literally ‘write first’ or ‘write it out in the first letters’.Footnote 38 Alliteration again leads our eyes to word-initial letters (ter … transnanto Tiberim, 7–8). Reading backwards from the end of the central two lines, too, we find ot- ot- (alto … habento, 8–9), stuttering out the first syllable of OTIA.Footnote 39
But something even more elaborate is afoot here. Horace's OTIA acrostic does not exist in isolation. At the opening of his second collection of Satires, Horace looks across to the end of Virgil's second poetry-book, fixing his gaze on the sphragis to the Georgics (G. 4.559–66):
Virgil illustrates his youthful otium with a telestich: the final letters of lines 562–5 spell out OTIA.Footnote 40 At the end of line 554, oti forms a (partial) gamma-telestich; lusi in the next line alerts the reader to the wordplay (ludere is a favourite Virgilian clue: recall ludus in undis signalling acrostic VNDIS at Ecl. 9.34–8).Footnote 41 The last line of the sphragis famously echoes the first line of the Eclogues (Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi, Ecl. 1.1); the telestich, too, looks back at the opening of Virgil's first work to rewrite Tityrus’ god-given otium (deus nobis haec otia fecit, Ecl. 1.6) in the context of Octavian's empire-expanding exploits at the margins of the Roman world, and so elegantly aligns the deus of the Eclogues with the Caesar of the Georgics.Footnote 42
Horace's OTIA acrostic is carefully worked to give multiple correspondences with Virgil's telestich. Both occur at points where the two poets actively negotiate poetic production in the newly autocratic Rome of the early 20s b.c.e., looking back at their careers so far; both set otium against imperial panegyric (Caesar … uictor, G. 4.560–1; Caesaris inuicti, Sat. 2.1.11). Horace's passage intricately echoes and inverts the structure of Virgil's: where Virgil's is a telestich at the end of the collection, Horace's is an acrostic at the beginning; where one line of Virgil's telestich falls in the passage praising Caesar (G. 4.562) and the next three in the passage on otium (4.563–5), Horace's acrostic devotes three lines to otium (Sat. 2.1.7–9) and then one to praise of Caesar (2.1.10).Footnote 43 Horace's Tiber (Sat. 2.1.8) matches Virgil's Euphrates (G. 4.561), and Horace's alto in the same line gestures to Virgil's altum (G. 4.560). His aude (Sat. 2.1.10) echoes Virgil's audax (G. 4.565), though now the ‘audacity’ is in writing imperial panegyric, rather than Virgil's youthful composition of the Eclogues.Footnote 44 I wonder, too, if Horace's amor (Sat. 2.1.10) could be an anagrammatic play on Maro, subtly marking Virgil's absent presence through another wordplay buried in the acrostic-passage.Footnote 45
The sphragis of Virgil's Book 4 is rarely brought into play as an intertextual companion here—somewhat surprisingly, given the remarkable correspondence between the two passages.Footnote 46 We should certainly be cautious: our best guess for the two collections’ dates of completion puts Satires Book 2 in or soon after 30 b.c.e.Footnote 47 and the Georgics around 29 b.c.e.Footnote 48 Priority is difficult to determine, and there is no guarantee that readers of Satires Book 2 would have been familiar with the end of Virgil's Georgics (or vice versa). But there can be no doubt that the two poets knew each other's work in draft; we should not rule out even this close a degree of textual interplay.Footnote 49 It seems clear to me that Horace's acrostic responds to Virgil's telestich and not the other way around:Footnote 50 Virgil's is embedded much more thoroughly not only within Georgics Book 4 but within his entire career overview, forming a neat ring-composition with the opening of the Eclogues.
Horace's treatment of Virgil throughout the Satires is teasing, double-edged, affectionate and sharply attentive. He boasts of the honour of his acquaintance, bringing out the big guns in his arsenal of friends in high places (1.6.55, 1.10.81), and praises his poetry—though not without irony—as molle atque facetum (1.10.44).Footnote 51 His first ten-poem collection, Satires Book 1, maps onto Virgil's ten Eclogues in elaborate and multifaceted ways, in parody as much as in deference.Footnote 52 In Sat. 1.5 he promises the reader an intimate glimpse of Virgil the man, not the author—but when the sonorous authorial mask has been ripped away, we see not an imposing man of letters but only a feeble and dyspeptic travelling companion (1.5.49).Footnote 53 Virgil both elevates Horace's poetry and serves as a target of its satire.
In the acrostic of Sat. 2.1, Horace appears in similarly parodic mode. He punctures Virgil's rather more high-minded otia by transforming it into practical considerations of exercise and diet, and debases poetic genre-shifts by attributing them not to age and maturity (iuuenta, G. 4.565) or the interventions of poetic deities (Cynthius, Ecl. 6.3; Musa, Aen. 1.8) but to filthy lucre (multa praemia, Sat. 2.1.12). The subtleties of Virgil's recusatio in the sphragis Footnote 54 are flattened into a stark choice between rote imperial panegyric and ultimately unproductive, backwards-facing otium; the total cessation from writing that Trebatius urges (Sat. 2.1.5–6) is scarcely recognizable as the otium of Virgil's youth, a period of fruitful poetic production (floren[s] … cecini, G. 4.564–6). Indeed, the reminiscence of Virgil's Tityrus—at ease under the protection of his deus, free to sing whatever he chooses (formosam … Amaryllida, Ecl. 1.5)—sits strangely with the view of imperial patronage that Trebatius sketches out, where the poet must either retire or sing political panegyric to a prescribed tune. It is significant, then, that Horace positions his acrostic at the beginning of the collection, rather than placing it in a retrospective coda like Virgil's. Unlike Virgil's nostalgic turn in the sphragis to a now inaccessible past, Sat. 2.1 initiates seven more poems which trace out a different poetic trajectory—and which turn increasingly often to scenes of otium as the backdrop for political, poetic and personal dramas. Horace's book breaks through the impasse, developing obliquely political satire in place of either silence or craven panegyric. But for all that, besides the comic deflation of Virgil's un-satirical pretensions, the acrostic's detailed imitation and transformation of Virgil's telestich still marks a quiet homage to a truly doctus amicus.Footnote 55