1. INTRODUCTION: ANONYMITY AND READER RESPONSE
The anonymity of a character contains an implicit assertion that the reader does not need to know an individual’s name, but it also offers an invitation that is particularly alluring to the ‘resisting reader’ who is inclined, and perhaps even strongly motivated, to resist authorial directions.Footnote 1 This invitation is for an alternate, diametrically opposed, response: a rejection of the anonymity of a character, either by linking the individual to a known historical or literary figure, or by attempting some other form of unmasking, such as consideration of the author’s use of anonymity to engage in literary ventriloquism, whereby a character’s words are taken to reflect the views of the author.
Sulpicius Severus’ Dialogi (c.404–6) are an ideal text for thinking through the complexity of character anonymity.Footnote 2 Three characters speak: Sulpicius himself, writing in the first person; ‘The Gaul’ (Gallus) an unnamed Gallic friend and former follower of the holy man Martin of Tours, who lived in the mid to late fourth century; and Postumianus, who has just returned from the East.Footnote 3 The majority of the text involves Postumianus (Book 1) and then Gallus (Books 2 and 3) sharing stories of what has happened to each other in the years when Postumianus was in the East and, in Gallus’ case in particular, further anecdotes about Martin. Along the way Sulpicius interjects to direct or question their remarks. Most of the content concerns itself with religious controversies, but throughout Martin remains an important focus, as Sulpicius looks to promote his miraculous deeds to a wide audience, following on the back of his hagiography of Martin, the Vita sancti Martini.Footnote 4 Sulpicius’ works succeeded in creating a literary tradition that celebrated Martin as the foremost Christian saint in late antique Gaul which existed alongside the sustained reuse and reinvention of Martin in early medieval Christian worship and thought.Footnote 5 This tradition was strengthened in the decades and centuries that followed by various late antique and medieval authors and texts, including influential poems by Paulinus of Périgueux and Venantius Fortunatus.Footnote 6
In the many narratives embedded within the mimetic speech of the dialogue, especially in the first two books, characters are often unnamed.Footnote 7 The most prevalent is ‘The Gaul’ who is specifically identified in the text as being from Gaul, but most anonymous characters feature in the embedded narratives of the dialogues, ranging from the presbyter, who was once Sulpicius’ friend but is alas now no longer, to the anonymous bishops and monks in Alexandria, who dispute over Origen, to various anchorites and abbots, or the Christian hermit in Cyrene, whose anonymity extends from simply the absence of his name to include his attempts at concealing his status as a priest.Footnote 8 At several points Gallus provides the direct speech for other anonymous characters, including Belgicus ‘The Belgian’—who took umbrage at Jerome for his apparent criticism of Gallic gluttony—and an unnamed friend of Postumianus, whom the Gaul is explicitly unwilling to name.Footnote 9 Certain characters are suggestive of, or perhaps even analogous to, real-life figures. One may be tempted, for example, to see shades of Jerome in the unnamed priest who was once a friend but now is estranged (but then he is subsequently named at 1.7–8), or of Rufinus of Aquileia in Postumianus’ travels and interests in Origen (or is he one of the monks in Alexandria, or the friend who refuses to be named?), but Sulpicius carefully avoids providing sufficient information to enable the reader to pierce the veil of anonymity. Prosopography is not the point.
Sulpicius wrote the Dialogi to extend his praise of Martin, whose life has already been the focus of Sulpicius’ much longer hagiography, his Vita Martini, written in its first form about seven years prior to the Dialogi.Footnote 10 After the dedicatory preface to the Vita Sulpicius makes his agenda clear (Vita 1.1.1): plerique mortales, studio et gloriae saeculari inaniter dediti, exinde perennem, ut putabant, memoriam nominis sui quaesierunt ‘Many men, pointlessly devoted to the pursuit of world glory, have looked to make what they thought would be an everlasting memorial for their name’.Footnote 11 According to Sulpicius these men are wrong; their glory has not lasted; instead, it has only served as an example for others, creating a cycle that is ultimately pointless. Sulpicius is determined to break that cycle (1.1.6):
unde facturus mihi operae pretium uideor, si uitam sanctissimi uiri, exemplo aliis mox futuram, perscripsero, quo utique ad ueram sapientiam et caelestem militiam diuinamque uirtutem legentes incitabuntur.
Therefore, it seems to me worthwhile to give a full account of the life of a man who was supremely holy, which will serve as an example to others; and will encourage its readers to pursue the true philosophy, the service of Heaven, the power that is of God.Footnote 12
Unlike in the Vita, in the Dialogi there is no explicit statement of authorial purpose, so Sulpicius’ agenda can only be determined by reflecting on what the text does. In the first book Martin is barely mentioned, as Postumianus details his journey and encounters in the East, but in Books 2 and 3 Martin features prominently, as the focus turns to additional stories involving Martin that are set in Gaul. This structure creates two comparanda to Martin’s holy exemplarity. The first is the Eastern monastic practices detailed by Postumianus in Book 1; the second is the behaviour of other characters in Gaul, who are repeatedly shown to be greedy and influenced by world power, including in particular non-ascetic Gallic clergy.Footnote 13 Indeed, at 2.4 Sulpicius even compares Martin’s capacity to perform miraculous deeds when he was a monk to his reduced capacity to do so once he had become a bishop. Additional, more minor but still significant concerns can be detected. Origenism is clearly defended in Sulpicius’ depiction of the Origenist controversy at 1.6. This is in keeping with what may be gleaned about Martin and Sulpicius’ use of Origenist thought.Footnote 14 Similarly, the Arian emperor Valentinian II is clearly maligned by Sulpicius, but this may be motivated more by Sulpicius’ desire to condemn despotic secular power than about Valentinian’s Christianity, given that the Orthodox Christian emperor/usurper Magnus Maximus is also criticized for his use of power at 3.11.
This article uses Sulpicius’ Dialogi to show how the dialogue genre is ideally positioned to interrogate the dynamics of character anonymity.Footnote 15 It begins with consideration of Sulpicius’ discussion of anonymity and genre in the third book of the Dialogi. It then turns to three case studies, chosen to showcase the response of both accepting and resisting readers to character anonymity. The first case study is the sustained anonymity of Gallus, which this reader accepts, as Sulpicius uses Gallus to typecast a Gallic perspective, turning Gallus into the quintessential voice of all Gaul. The second case study is the Empress Justina, whose prominence as the wife of one emperor and mother of another made the actuality of her anonymity all but impossible. Her anonymous presence in the narrative is both a reflection of the historical Justina and an effort to typecast the manipulative tendencies of Arians, especially Arian women, in positions of power. The third case study is Rufinus of Aquileia, who is never named in the Dialogi and consequently lurks behind numerous instances of anonymity, especially relating to the Origenist controversy. Each of these case studies reflects on Sulpicius’ broader agenda in writing the Dialogi, including Martin’s conflict and interaction with anti-ascetic traditionalist Gallic clergy (Gallus), Arianism (Justina) and Origenism (Rufinus).Footnote 16 Ultimately, this article argues that Sulpicius’ pervasive use of anonymity enables him to maintain his focus on Martin, his saintly hero, whose presence in the narrative is made more conspicuous as his repeated naming forms a clear contrast to the anonymity of both major and minor characters.
Since Jacques Fontaine’s 2006 critical edition there has been renewed interest in Sulpicius’ ‘other works’ such as the Dialogi and his Epistolae, including important studies by Zachary Yuzwa, whose call to read Sulpicius’ œuvre as ‘self-consciously literary’ and as literature in its own right, not as a historical window into the life of Martin, is compelling. As Yuzwa has shown, Sulpicius constructs a model reader to guide how the actual reader should understand his texts, especially their use of exemplarity.Footnote 17 In constructing a model reader, Sulpicius also allows for the existence of a resisting reader who does not believe his tales about Martin, and so must be persuaded as much as possible to change their mind. Anonymity is a great wedge between these two readers. No matter how much the resisting reader wants to resist Gallus’ anonymity, the text simply does not provide sufficient evidence for them to do. Conversely, the accepting reader is surely challenged by Sulpicius’ attempt to anonymize such a prominent figure as the Empress Justina.
In 1993 Adele Reinhartz considered the function of anonymity in relation to characterization in the Books of Samuel. For Reinhartz the ‘anonymity of particular minor characters contribute[d] positively both to the characterisation of major and secondary characters and to plot development’.Footnote 18 She thus proposed that a hierarchy of sorts was formed. On top were those who were named, and therefore more known to the reader, and below dwelt those characters that are not and therefore, according to Reinhartz, necessarily at a notional distance from the reader. The significance (or even existence) of such a hierarchy cannot be readily assumed for other instances of character anonymity. Indeed, anonymity, especially for recurring characters, is a pregnant not-naming, a marked absence, rather than simply an ill-considered elision. Reinhartz further argued that the anonymity of three women focussed attention on their professions, but, as David Beck showed in his 1997 monograph of anonymous characters in the Fourth Gospel, this specific function is only apparent in the case studies that are Reinhartz’s focus.Footnote 19 The same may also be said of Reinhartz’s claim regarding plot development—there is nothing intrinsic to the anonymity of a character that necessitates an advancement of the plot. Instead, Beck proposed that the anonymity of characters could ‘intensify reader potential for identification with that character’, but Beck’s claim, like Reinhartz’s, is again compelling only for the text that was his focus. Indeed, Beck was at pains to point out that the function of anonymity in the Fourth Gospel was markedly different to its function in Hebrew scriptures or Greek narratives.Footnote 20
A year after Beck’s monograph, Reinhartz published a monograph that offered a more wide-ranging analysis of anonymity in biblical narratives.Footnote 21 In that work she linked anonymity to the expression of personal identities, yet also acknowledged the critical role played by the reader in linking together and analysing otherwise unrelated characters through their shared anonymity.Footnote 22 Reinhartz now saw the capacity of anonymity to invert the hierarchy that she had perceived in the Books of Samuel between the named and the unnamed:
For many characters, however, the absence of the proper name does not consign them to narrative oblivion but simply requires that the readers interact with, analyse, or construct the unnamed character on a basis other than the proper name. Indeed, the principal effect of the absence of a proper name is to focus the reader’s attention … [at] the gap that anonymity denotes.Footnote 23
Reinhartz’s particular concern was the ‘role designations’ in biblical narratives that in turn led to consideration of the individual character traits of anonymous characters, but her general argument that anonymity attracts the reader’s attention and creates the hermeneutic space for analysis makes a compelling case for the narrative function of anonymity across a wide range of text types and genres.
How the reader responds to anonymity is crucial in determining its narratological impact, as anonymity exists in the space between reader and text, leaving an absence in the latter that the former must fill.Footnote 24 There can be no single response to anonymity. Some ‘accepting readers’ may see anonymity as a typecasting strategy, an attempt to generalize or otherwise minimalize the importance of the anonymous character relative to the named (and often more prominent) characters of the text, as Reinhartz does for the Books of Samuel. Other ‘resisting readers’ are more adroitly positioned to consider the tension between the anonymous characters’ marked absences in the imagined world of the text against a similar tension in the real world, in which anonymity is repeatedly constructed and deconstructed.Footnote 25
In 2012 Florence Yoon published a monograph examining anonymous characters in fifth-century Greek tragedy, which showed how anonymous characters enabled the Greek tragedians of the fifth century b.c.e. to innovate literary traditions.Footnote 26 Yoon (understandably given the scope of her enquiry) concluded that anonymous characters enhance the interpretative complexity of the plays’ heroes.Footnote 27 Yoon’s arguments are thus difficult to extrapolate into a holistic assessment of character anonymity.Footnote 28
Scholarship’s struggle to find a way of considering the holistic function of the anonymity of characters is in large part due to the fact that any findings are intrinsically limited to the specific texts that form the scope of enquiry, whether Reinhartz’s biblical narratives or Yoon’s Greek tragedies. Dialogue offers a way forward, as it occurs in a wide range of genres, including epistolography (one half of a dialogue), historiography, satire, biblical narrative and tragedy.Footnote 29
2. ANONYMITY AND THE DIALOGUE GENRE
In the third book Sulpicius dramatically does away with his sustained use of anonymity in Books 1 and 2, as many characters, all auditors, are named in quick succession. A number of embedded narratives follow, each of which features an abundance of names. Gallus then directly addresses this new mode of storytelling (3.5.2–3):
ceterum, nolo miremini me hodie facere, quod hesterno non feci, ut ad singulas quasque uirtutes nomina testium personasque subnectam, ad quas si quis fuerit incredulus, quia adhuc in corpore sunt, recurrat. exegit id infidelitas plurimorum, qui in aliquibus, quae hesterno memorata sunt, nutare dicuntur.Footnote 30
But I do not want you all to be surprised that I am doing today what I did not do yesterday, as I link the names of witnesses and people to individual acts of virtue. If anyone is sceptical, let him check back with these people since they are still alive. The faithlessness of a large number of people has made this necessary; for they are said to doubt some of the stories which were told yesterday.Footnote 31
The sun sets at the end of Book 2, which means that Gallus’ reference to hesterno encapsulates the content of the two preceding books. The addition of the names provides for the possibility that Gallus’ remarks may be fact-checked with those who either did what he said they did or saw what took place. This narrative pivot is clearly a literary conceit. Regardless of whether the dialogues were ‘real’—that is to say, whether they actually took place—or simply a literary invention of Sulpicius, Sulpicius did not revise (or otherwise emend) the first two books to include more names, so the impact of Gallus’ change in storytelling remains limited to the third book.
In Book 3 Gallus turns to consider the dialogue genre directly (3.5.6–7):
ceterum, etsi dialogi speciem, quo ad leuandum fastidium lectio uariaretur, adsumpsimus, nos pie praestruere profitemur historiae ueritatem. … sed redeat ad nostrum sermo consessum: in quo cum me tam studiose audiri uideam, fatear necesse est Aprum fecisse constanter, qui reppulit infideles, eos tantum iudicans audire debere qui crederent.
But, even though we have adopted the form of a dialogue, so that the reading of the text might be varied to alleviate boredom, we profess that we are piously producing a true history. … But let the discussion return to our gathering, when I saw that I was listened to so eagerly there, I found it necessary to acknowledge that Aper acted properly when he kept back the faithless, judging that only those who believed ought to be allowed to listen.
The alliteration pie praestruere profitemur is a rhetorical flourish that draws attention to Sulpicius’ claim that his dialogues are establishing the groundwork (praestruere) for an accurate history. At this point there is deliberate slippage between Gallus’ voice as the speaker and Sulpicius’ narratorial voice.Footnote 32 In blurring the aural response of the audience of the dialogue (nostrum concessum) with its reading (lectio) Sulpicius anticipates both the doubtful listener and the doubtful reader, both of whom may be appeased by Gallus’ pivot to a more historiographical mode of storytelling. Aper’s decision to exclude the faithless echoes with metaliterary significance for Sulpicius’ dialogues, which are ostensibly only to be read by those who are interested in the capacity of Martin to work miracles.Footnote 33
The assertion that the text is in fact a ‘true history’ written in the guise of a dialogue is supported by some of the claims in the earlier books.Footnote 34 In Book 2, for example, Postumianus’ response to one of Gallus’ narratives celebrating Martin’s exemplarity forces Gallus to assert the necessity of historical context (locus, tempus, persona) in interpreting Martin’s actions.Footnote 35 In so doing, Gallus asserts the link between history and the dynamics of exemplarity in the dialogues, and also goes some way towards defining the genre of historiography relative to the genre of dialogue, with the former being concerned with who did what and when, while the latter does not rely on these specifics for its narrative (or its capacity to develop and promote exempla).
Defining historiography on the basis that it is about specific facts (locus, tempus, persona) remains problematic for a wide range of classical and late antique texts. Tacitus’ Germania, for example, has posed challenges for critics wanting to assess its generic identity, given Tacitus’ reluctance in that text to name and pinpoint people, events and places, even as he looks to cover similar thematic grounds to his recognizably historiographic Historia and Annales.Footnote 36 Epistolography (supposedly one half of a dialogue) definitely needs personae, at the very least, the ‘persona of the epistolary authors and the persona of the public addressee’, but, as Seneca’s letters demonstrate, it need not also have locus and tempus. Throughout his corpus of philosophical letters, minimal attention is paid to places and events to such an extent that they almost become non-existent. The same might also (almost) be said of his addressee Lucilius, whose de facto anonymity enables the reader to assume his role as Seneca’s addressee.Footnote 37
Unlike historiography, dialogue does not require Gallus’ trifecta of locus, tempus and personae. Truly mimetic speech, with no diegetic markers to indicate who is talking, could very well convey information without identifying either the speaker or the audience/interlocutor. As Jażdżewska has shown, indications of the speaker in Greek dialogic literature may be considered an invention of sorts by Theodoret of Cyrus, who annotated dialogic texts which in their initial versions did not indicate who said what.Footnote 38 But even nearly mimetic dialogues have no need to identify embedded speakers. This means that dialogue is the perfect genre for Sulpicius to use to explore not only the tensions that arise when speech and embedded narratives involve anonymity but also the demands and expectations that the reader may place on a text that aspires towards historical or narrative veracity. We turn now to three case studies, each of which offers different insights into the textual function, limitations and opportunities of character anonymity.
3. GALLVS’ ANONYMITY AND SULPICIUS’ VENTRILOQUISM OF GAUL
The most prominent example of anonymity in the Dialogi is Gallus, a Gallic monk who is never named, and indeed is emphatically not named (1.1). In some respects, his namelessness may be considered to fall somewhat short of a wholly anonymous character, as the epithet Gallus routinely links his character to Gaul and (including here) has come to function as a proxy name of sorts. This manifest link between his epithet and Gaul repeatedly underscores his capacity to speak on behalf of Gaul.Footnote 39
In Book 1, for example, Postumianus outlines the very limited diet of the anonymous Cyrenian priest. At the mention of his meagre table, Sulpicius facetiously enquires what Gallus made of the food that was on offer. Gallus’ response oscillates between references to his own proclivities and those of all Gauls (1.4.6):
‘facis,’ inquit, ‘Sulpici, tuo more, qui nullam occasionem, si qua tibi porrecta fuerit, omittis quin nos edacitatis fatiges. sed facis inhumane, qui nos Gallos homines cogis exemplo angelorum uiuere: quamquam ego studio manducandi etiam angelos manducare credam: nam istum dimidium hordeacium timeo uel solus adtingere. sed contentus sit hoc Cyrenensis ille, cui uel necessitas uel natura est esurire, uel postremum isti, quibus, credo, marina iactatio inediam cibi fecerat! nos procul a mari absumus, et quod tibi saepe testatus sum, Galli sumus.’
‘You act,’ he said ‘dear Sulpicius, according to your custom, as you do not miss any opportunity at all that has ever presented itself to you to tease us about our voracity. But you act unkindly, as you force us Gauls—mere mortals—to live according to the example of angels: though I believe that even angels eat out of enjoyment; for I would actually be concerned for myself if I only had half a barley cake to eat. But let the Cyrenian be content with that, for whom it is either a necessity or his nature to be hungry, or lastly let those be happy with it, whom, I believe, the constant tossing at sea has made unable to eat food! We are far away from the sea and, as I have often testified to you, we are Gauls.’
Gallus is the initial target of Sulpicius’ joke, but he quickly turns himself into the representation of all Gauls by using the first-person plural pronoun nos and first-person plural verbs (absumus, sumus) to speak on behalf of all Gauls (Gallos, Galli).Footnote 40 His role as the proxy voice of all Gaul is accentuated by the distinction drawn between his personal views regarding the eating habits of angels, his own capacity to eat half a barley cake, and his prior remarks to Sulpicius along these lines, all of which involve references to himself in the singular (ego, credam, timeo, solus, credo, testatus sum).
Gallus’ ventriloquism for Gaul is perhaps most apparent in his endorsement of the usurper Magnus Maximus, who had been proclaimed emperor in Britannia by his army in 383—some twenty years before the dramatic date and composition of the Dialogus.Footnote 41 He then sailed with his army to Gaul and confronted the Emperor Gratian. After a few days Magnus Maximus was victorious, Gratian fled and was then killed by henchmen sent by Magnus Maximus.Footnote 42 Tensions soon arose between Magnus Maximus, whose area of control included Gaul, Spain and Brittania, and Gratian’s half-brother, Valentinian II, who had control of Italy. In the summer of 387 Magnus Maximus invaded Italy forcing Valentinian II to flee to Theodosius, the emperor in the East.Footnote 43 In 388 Theodosius’ army defeated Magnus Maximus’ at the battle of Poetovio, fought near the modern-day city of Ptuj in Slovenia, and forced Magnus Maximus to flee to Aquileia whereupon he was executed.Footnote 44 Martin interacted with Magnus Maximus directly during the four years in which he ruled from his imperial residence in Trier; consequently, Magnus Maximus features in the Dialogi.
Gallus unabashedly praises Magnus Maximus (2.6.1–2):
Maximus imperator rem publicam gubernabat, uir omni uitae merito praedicandus, si ei uel diadema non legitime tumultuante milite inpositum repudiare uel armis ciuilibus abstinere licuisset: sed magnum imperium nec sine periculo renui nec sine armis potuit retineri.
Maximus reigned then as emperor, a man who would have been judged commendable for his entire life, if only he had been allowed to reject the crown illegally imposed on him by revolting soldiers, or had been allowed to stay out of civil war: but great power cannot be refused without danger, nor preserved without war.
Given that this was written during the reign of Theodosius’ sons, Honorius in the West and Arcadius in the East, these remarks are arguably the most politically sensitive within the Dialogi.Footnote 45 Theodosius’ motivation in confronting Magnus Maximus came to be the subject of some rumour, especially in Eastern sources, fuelled in part by Magnus Maximus’ fervent identification as a Nicene Christian whose confrontation with Valentinian II was ostensibly aimed at saving the Orthodox Church from Valentinian’s destructive pro-Arianist policies.Footnote 46 By making these remarks a part of Gallus’ dialogue, Sulpicius protects himself from the criticism that he enjoyed some nostalgic longing for the usurper, even as he acknowledges the strong support that Magnus Maximus enjoyed in Gaul; by including Gallus’ remarks, Sulpicius provides tacit support for Gallus’ position.Footnote 47 Gallus’ (and perhaps Sulpicius’) sympathies are understandable. When Sulpicius wrote the dialogues, all Gaul was yet to burn on Orientius’ funeral pyre, but the loss of a significant imperial benefactor and general such as Maximus was surely a cause for some regret, given Alaric’s invasion of Italy in 401–2 and the increasingly unstable geopolitical situation in Gaul.Footnote 48
Sulpicius does, however, place some limits on Gallus’ capacity to be a proxy for all of Gaul by using Postumianus’ character to question Gallus’ Gallic bias. At the end of Book 1 Postumianus cedes his position as primary speaker to Gallus, who begins with some brief prefatory remarks, using the topos of humility (1.27.2): sed dum cogito me hominem Gallum inter Aquitanos uerba facturum, uereor ne offendat uestras nimium urbanas aures sermo rusticior ‘But when I think about the fact that I, a Gallic man, am about to speak among Aquitanians, I fear that my rather rustic diction might upset your urbane judgement’.Footnote 49 Gallus attempts to lower expectations regarding his rhetorical prowess by implying that Aquitanians are more sophisticated in their speech than other Gauls. He can make this claim because Bordeaux, the major city in Aquitania, was a key education centre in fourth-century Gaul, as evidenced by Ausonius’ poetry, but education and sophisticated literary culture could also be found in other parts of late antique Gaul.Footnote 50 The rhetorical edge that Gallus might gain by these remarks is blunted by Postumianus, who immediately recognizes the conceit (1.27.4):
‘tu uero,’ inquit Postumianus, ‘uel Celtice aut, si mauis, Gallice loquere dummodo Martinum loquaris! ego autem credo, quia, etiamsi mutus esses, non defutura tibi uerba, quibus Martinum facundo ore loquereris, sic ut Zachariae in Iohannis nomine lingua resoluta est. ceterum cum sis scholasticus, hoc ipsum quasi scholasticus artificiose facis, ut excuses inperitiam, quia exuberas eloquentia. sed neque monachum tam astutum neque Gallum decet esse tam callidum.’
‘Certainly,’ replied Postumianus, ‘speak either in Celtic or, if you prefer, in Gaulish, as long as you discuss Martin! But for my part, I believe, that, even if you happened to be mute, you would not lack the words to speak of Martin using eloquent speech, just as the tongue of Zacharias was let loose at the mention of John’s name. But since you are, in fact, a rhetorician, you skilfully undertake like a rhetorician to apologize for your lack of skill, because you really excel in eloquence. But it is appropriate neither for a monk to be so artful nor for a Gaul so cunning.’
The function of Gallus’ anonymity is highlighted somewhat irreverently through Postumianus’ invitation to Gallus to speak in Celtic or Gaulish, which echoes almost to the point of absurdity Gallus’ earlier remarks regarding his Gallic identity. Postumianus’ remarks allude to the quintessential description of Gaul by Caesar in the opening of his commentary on the Gallic Wars (BGall. 1.1):
Gallia est omnis diuisa in partes tres, quarum unam incolunt Belgae, aliam Aquitani, tertiam qui ipsorum lingua Celtae, nostra Galli appellantur. hi omnes lingua, institutis, legibus inter se differunt.
Gaul is divided into three parts, one of which the Belgae inhabit, another the Aquitanians, and the third those who in their language are called Celts, but in our language are called Gauls. All of these groups differ among themselves in their use of language, customs and laws.
Like Caesar, Postumianus speaks of both Celtic and Gallic. As A.H. Blom states, a late antique reference to a Gallic lingua could denote the Gallic dialect of the Celtic language, or a Gallic variety of Latin, or a distinctly Gallic rhetorical style. Given the allusion to Caesar, it is more likely that Postumianus is using Celtic and Gallic as synonyms to refer either to a form of Celtic which the Aquitanians would not have been able to understand or, if Postumianus’ tone is not sarcastic, to a Gallic dialect of Latin.Footnote 51 In effect, Postumianus is inviting Gallus to use whichever term reflects the perspective and cultural and linguistic identity that he wants to adopt. He can play the role of the Gaul and claim he is speaking Celtice, or he can accept that, like his highly educated and Romanized counterparts, he is speaking Gallice.
Later in Book 2, after Sulpicius has related how Martin let an empress wait at his table, Postumianus again mocks Gallus’ Gallic identity, parroting his earlier catchphrase (2.8.2): ceterum, sicut tu soles dicere, cum edacitatis argueris, ‘Galli sumus’: ita nos in hac parte numquam nec Martini exemplo uel tuis disputationibus corrigemur ‘But, as you are wont to say when you are accused of being too fond of eating, “We are Gauls”, so we, for our part, who dwell in this district, will never be reformed either by the example of Martin or by your dissertations.’ For Postumianus (whose travel in the East remains fresh in his mind), Gallus’ Gallic identity enables him only to speak for Gaul, which in turn limits the capacity for Martin to be a global example, given the particular appeal he enjoyed inter Gallos.
Gallus’ anonymity enables Sulpicius to assert a distinctly Gallic view of Martin, which amounts to a glowing endorsement of the holy man’s actions compared to others who bent under the pressure of powerful forces. At the same time, Sulpicius acknowledges, through Postumianus’ criticisms, the Gallic sentimentality that motivates some of the praise of Martin. For example, Postumianus’ responses to Gallus’ claims are at times clearly facetious, but they nevertheless accept the underlying premise that Martin should be considered an exemplary Western holy figure, including by the Eastern audience that Postumianus professes to represent. Gallus’ anonymity is repeatedly a focus, as Sulpicius draws attention to the tension between Gallus’ personal identity and his capacity to represent all Gaul, and thus celebrates and critiques Gallus’ Gallic identity while embedding a multitude of anonymous characters within the narratives of Gallus’ speech. His prevalence in the narrative, as an interlocutor at the start of Book 1 and the primary locutor for Books 2 and 3, is an almost perpetual reminder of character anonymity.
The Cyrenian priest in Sulpicius’ Dialogi is a similar example of the rhetorical and literary uses of a geographical epithet and of partial anonymity to make specific arguments.Footnote 52 He is not only a Cyrenian priest and representative of all Cyrenian priests but also the specific Cyrenian priest whom Postumianus encountered. The absence of his name emphasizes that he is Cyrenian, underscoring this more than a Cyrenian name would have done, especially if the characters in the dialogue, or the reader, failed to recognize a Cyrenian name as such. Any reference to him must necessarily be about his Cyrenian identity. So, when Gallus suggests that Cyrenians are by nature inclined to hunger, this cannot be easily directed at that specific Cyrenian, whom Gallus had never met, but must come to be directed at all Cyrenians, of whom our Cyrenian is a most prominent example. A character with no name may never be named, but in the case of the Cyrenian their epithet functions as a de facto name (even as it occludes the other information, and the personal touch, that comes with a name).Footnote 53 There is, however, a key point of difference between the Cyrenian and Gallus: the latter has both a personal identity and a stereotypical identity, but the former, as a character wholly embedded in a narrative, is denied the opportunity to control the narrative, to speak in his own voice.
4. JUSTINA’S ANONYMITY AND ANTI-EXEMPLARITY
In approximately 369 the Emperor Valentinian I decided to marry Justina, the celibate widow of the failed usurper Magnentius, despite already being married to Marina Severa.Footnote 54 According to numerous Christian sources, Valentinian was motivated to do so by the outstanding beauty of Justina, an explanation that may account for Valentinian’s somewhat sudden abandonment of Marina, whose son by him, Gratian, had recently been promoted to the rank of Augustus.Footnote 55 Valentinian’s decision necessitated a change in Roman law and a divorce from Marina.Footnote 56 Two years later Martin was acclaimed bishop of Tours. At about that time, so Sulpicius Severus tell us, Martin had cause to visit Valentinian’s court (2.5.5):
eo fere tempore, quo primum episcopus datus est, fuit ei necessitas adire comitatum. Valentinianus—tum maior—rerum potiebatur. hic cum Martinum ea petere cognouisset, quae praestare nolebat, iussit eum palatii foribus arceri: etenim ad animum illius inmitem ac superbum uxor accesserat Arriana, quae totum illum a sancto uiro, ne ei debitam reuerentiam praestaret, auerterat.
At about the time when he had just become a bishop, there was a need for him to visit the court. Valentinian—at that time, the Elder—was in power. When he learnt that Martin sought what he was unwilling to grant, he ordered him to be kept back from the doors of the palace. His Arian wife had approved of his unkind and arrogant attitude in that she had entirely cut him off from the holy man to prevent the emperor from showing him the regard he was due.
There can be no real doubt that the uxor Arriana is Justina.Footnote 57 By 371 Valentinian and Marina were well and truly divorced. By the time Sulpicius wrote his dialogues in the early fifth century, Justina had achieved notoriety as a prominent advocate for the Arian cause and as a major influence over her son, the child Augustus Valentinian II.Footnote 58 Sulpicius’ hesitancy to name Justina has prompted some confusion. Roberts took Arriana to be a first name, not an adjective qualifying uxor, even though Valentinian I never married an Arriana, something which Sulpicius surely knew, since Justina was not a figure of the distant past but an influential member of the imperial household active during Sulpicius’ lifetime.Footnote 59 Nor is the possibility of manuscript emendation or corruption likely. Sulpicius’ dialogues are attested by a sixth-century manuscript housed in the Bibliotheca Capitolare in Verona,Footnote 60 copied within one hundred and fifteen years of his original composition, and no manuscript shows any variation to the phrase uxor accesserat Arriana.Footnote 61
Justina’s efforts to prevent Martin from entering the palace are thwarted by his piety. After seven days of prayer and fasting an angel instructs him to go to the palace (2.5.8–9):
patent limina, nullus obsistit. postremo usque ad regem, nemine prohibente peruenit. qui cum uenientem eminus uideret, infrendens cur fuisset admissus, nequaquam assurgere est dignatus astanti, donec regiam sellam ignis operiret, ipsumque regem ea parte corporis qua sedebat, afflaret incendium. ita solio suo superbus excutitur, et Martino inuitus assurgit: multumque complexus quem spernere ante decreuerat, uirtutem sensisse diuinam emendatior fatebatur: nec exspectatis Martini precibus, prius omnia praestitit quam rogaretur.
The doors were open, no one blocked his way. At last he made it as far as the emperor, with no one preventing him. When the emperor saw him coming at a distance, he gnashed his teeth as to why he had been admitted and did not in any way deign to rise up as Martin advanced, until fire covered the emperor’s seat and flames shot at the emperor himself on that part of the body on which he was sitting. So the arrogant man is driven off his throne, and unwillingly rises up to Martin. Embracing dearly him whom he had previously determined to despise, and now quite chastized, he began to confess that he had felt divine power; without waiting even to listen to Martin’s prayers, he granted every point before even being asked.
Justina is the elephant in the room, an absent figure whom the narrator repeatedly expects (nullus, nemine) to intercept Martin, but who fails to appear.Footnote 62 Her influence over the emperor is no match for the divine angel. Valentinian’s experience of divine fire may have changed his mind about Martin’s petitions, but it has no effect on his character; the arrogant and unkind ruler that he was (inmitem ac superbum) still remains (superbus), even if the experience has left him feeling somewhat chastized (emendatior).Footnote 63 The sibilance of the phrase solio suo superbus creates a sinister mood that underpins the contrast between Valentinian’s haughty disrespect and the saintly Martin. Sulpicius sharpens his criticism of Justina by following the episode with a paradigmatic example of how an empress should behave in his portrayal of another unnamed figure (2.6.1): reginae fidelis exemplum ‘example of a loyal queen’. The anonymity of this queen, who may be identified as Helen of Caernarfon, is equally fragile given that her interaction with Martin takes place at the court of Magnus Maximus, whom she refers to as her husband.Footnote 64
In the years between Martin’s encounter with Justina and the composition of the Dialogi, the Empress Justina became embroiled in two major controversies. The first was the confrontation between the court of Valentinian II and Ambrose of Milan over the use of Catholic churches by Arians, which resulted in Ambrose successfully resisting imperial pressure and refusing to open the churches for Arian use.Footnote 65 Subsequently, Theodosius decided to confront Magnus Maximus on Valentinian II’s behalf, an act that may have been motivated by Justina’s cunning use of her daughter’s charms to convince Theodosius to become her son-in-law and then come to the aid of her son, the increasingly vulnerable child emperor, Valentinian II.Footnote 66
Sulpicius’ decision to eschew naming Justina is a considered narrative technique that entices the resisting reader to connect Sulpicius’ damning portrait of the Arian empress to other narratives involving her impious and excessive influence, principally her repeated confrontations with Ambrose of Milan which occurred in the years between Martin’s encounter with her and Sulpicius’ date of composition of the Dialogi. By enabling this connection to be drawn, Sulpicius prompts consideration of Martin as a forerunner of Ambrose, who successfully confronted Justina before the venerable bishop of Milan and, like his Milanese colleague, relies on his calm demeanour, assuredness and pious devotion to ensure divine support. Sulpicius’ attempt to anonymize the infamous Justina is a damning attempt to marginalize her character and thus belittle her significance to history and her influence over affairs; however, anonymity does not do this alone, otherwise the same might be said of Sulpicius’ depiction of Helen of Caernarfon. Instead, anonymity acts in concert with other aspects of characterization, enhancing the negativity of Justina’s portrayal even as it makes a place for Helen of Caernarfon as the archetypal good queen.
5. THE ABSENCE OF RUFINUS OF AQUILEIA
In 1980 G.K. van Andel wondered why Sulpicius makes no mention of Rufinus of Aquileia.Footnote 67 This wonder was motivated partly by Sulpicius’ prominent naming and criticism of Jerome and by the link that van Andel drew between Sulpicius and Rufinus, including through Paulinus of Nola, a dear friend and confidant to both the Gallo-Roman litterateur and the Aquileian monk.Footnote 68 Van Andel’s ‘solution’ to the ‘problem’ posed by Rufinus’ absence rested partly on his assertion that Rufinus of Aquileia had simply become too controversial to name when the Dialogi were composed, following his dispute with Jerome (and Anastasius I, the bishop of Rome), and partly on the idea that Sulpicius did not want to name Rufinus lest he draw attention to his dialogue’s extensive literary theft from the preface to Rufinus’ translation of Origen’s Περὶ ἀρχῶν.Footnote 69 Neither argument is particularly compelling. The fallout in the West from Rufinus’ confrontation with Jerome in the 400s was far less pervasive than van Andel assumed, as evidenced by the support Rufinus received from key bishops, such as Venerius of Milan and Chromatius of Aquileia, and by the continued use of Rufinus’ works, including his translations of Origen, in fifth-century Gaul.Footnote 70 Nor did van Andel allow for the fact that Jerome remained a controversial figure in Gaul throughout most of the fifth century; therefore, naming either disputant was not without risks.Footnote 71 In 2007 R.J. Goodrich extended some of van Andel’s findings, arguing that Sulpicius’ depiction of Jerome worked against the carefully formed persona that the learned presbyter displayed in his various works.Footnote 72 He added to the Rufinian allusions that van Andel had detected, finding that the criticisms levelled at Jerome in the Dialogi drew on Rufinus’ criticism of Jerome in his heated Second Apology.Footnote 73 Lastly, Goodrich’s work, including his subsequent 2013 article that explored Martin’s occasional Origenist thought, proved the underlying and explicit importance of the Origenist controversy, and specifically the dispute between Jerome and Rufinus, to Sulpicius’ dialogues.Footnote 74
This section argues that Rufinus’ absence from the text is a deliberate strategy by Sulpicius to let Rufinus loom behind a multitude of anonymous characters within the embedded narrative of the first book of the Dialogi. This enables the reader to consider not just the influence of Rufinus’ words and arguments on the speaker but also the possibility that Rufinus was or could be one of the many friends who are referred to anonymously throughout the text.
In the first book of the Dialogi Postumianus details the Origenist dispute in Alexandria (1.6–7). As both van Andel and Goodrich show, Sulpicius’ remarks are a gentle correction of Rufinus’ claim that Origen’s heretical remarks were interpolations.Footnote 75 Sulpicius explicitly identifies bishops and monks as the disputants (1.6.1). The latter allows for the possibility that Rufinus was one of the monks that Postumianus saw, especially since Rufinus was known to have spent considerable time in Alexandria prior to his relocation to Jerusalem.
From Alexandria Postumianus journeyed to Bethlehem, where Jerome was living (1.8.1). Given the significance of Bethlehem to the birth of Christ there is no real need for Postumianus to explain its location. Still, he adds the remark that Bethlehem is a mere six miles from Jerusalem, which is (or at least could be taken as) a subtle reference to Rufinus, whose patron Melania the Elder had established a significant monastery in the hills of Jerusalem where Rufinus lived for some twenty-seven years.Footnote 76 Postumianus’ praise of Jerome provokes an immediate reaction from Gallus, who is overtly critical of Jerome’s Epistle 22.Footnote 77 Sulpicius’ persona intervenes, and asks Gallus to reflect on his response, which in turn prompts Gallus to opine (1.9.1): unde a quibusdam, quos nominare nolo, dicitur non amari ‘Hence he [Jerome] is said not to be loved by certain individuals, whom I am unwilling to name’. The alliteration of nominare nolo draws attention to Gallus’ non-naming of Jerome’s critics, which is a metaliterary mirror of Sulpicius’ non-naming of Rufinus.
Later in Book 1 Postumianus describes two old men who had lived in a monastery for forty years. One was never angry, and the other never feasted. The short anecdote prompts Gallus to draw a parallel (1.12.2–3):
ad haec Gallus me intuens ‘O si uester ille—nolo nomen dicere—nunc adesset! uellem admodum istud audiret exemplum, quem in multorum saepe personis nimium experti sumus uehementer irasci: sed tamen, quia inimicis suis, quantum audio, nuper ignouit, si istud audiret, magis magisque proposito confirmaretur exemplo, praeclaram esse uirtutem iracundia non moueri. nec uero infitiabor iustas illi causas irarum fuisse: sed ubi durior pugna, ibi gloriosior est corona.’
The Gaul glaring at me said in response to those comments: ‘If only that friend of yours—I do not want to say his name—were here right now! I would then really want him to hear that example, because we have often experienced far too much him getting frequently, vehemently angry towards many individuals, but nevertheless, according to what I hear, he has recently forgiven his enemies, and so if he heard this example, he would increasingly be convinced by the example set before him that it is an outstanding virtue to remain unmoved by anger. I will not deny that there were legitimate reasons for his fits of anger, but when the battle is harder, the crown of victory is all the more glorious.’
Gallus demurs from naming the friend in question, making it difficult to establish a firm identity for the anonymous individual. Still, there are some tantalizing clues that suggest, or at least make it feasible, that Rufinus may well be the friend. First, we have the link that van Andel and Goodrich have shown between Rufinus and Sulpicius, both of whom feature in the orbit of Paulinus.Footnote 78 There may also be some level of irony in Gallus’ phrase uester amicus if the tone of the plural possessive adjective is taken to suggest Sulpicius’ support of Rufinus’ views rather than a specific friendship. Then we have the context. Rufinus’ First Apology against Jerome was written in 397. Jerome’s response followed in c.399–400, and Rufinus’ second Apology followed shortly thereafter.Footnote 79 Then Rufinus was condemned but not excommunicated by Anastasius, the bishop of Rome, after which the controversy all but petered out, as Rufinus set about translating and extending Eusebius’ Historia ecclesiastica, and continued to translate Origen’s works. This fits Gallus’ characterization of these events as recent (nuper), his claim that the anonymous individual was angry toward a good number of persons, and also his claim that the anonymous individual had chosen to ignore, if not quite forgive, his enemies. The phrase iustas illi causas irarum may be an allusion to Servius’ exegesis of Verg. Aen. 12.496,Footnote 80 where he allows that Aeneas’ anger against Turnus was justified. If the Origenist controversy in the West were an epic poem, there could be only two candidates for the roles of hero and anti-hero.
It is difficult to pin down Rufinus at almost any point in the first book of Sulpicius’ Dialogues, but this is in a way the point of Sulpicius’ decision to keep Rufinus anonymous: Rufinus is everywhere. He is lurking behind the disputant monks in Alexandria, casting a shadow on Jerome in Bethlehem from his monastery a mere six miles away in Jerusalem, and threatening to emerge as a named critic of Jerome in Gallus’ reproaches. In the remainder of the Dialogues Rufinus all but fades into the background as Martin becomes the text’s main focus, but the identification of Gallus as a critic of Jerome and a supporter of Rufinus remains.
6. CONCLUSION
Names are important. Epithets are important. Anonymity is important too. It is not so much that the character has no name, it is more that the author has chosen or been compelled to avoid providing the reader with the character’s name. This inevitably draws attention, creating a sense of mystery, firing the reader’s curiosity at the abundance of hermeneutic possibilities that may emerge when interpretation is not bound to respect or even acknowledge a character’s name.
Anonymity is difficult to reduce to a singular explanation. An anonymous character may be minor, such as ‘The Belgian’ (Belgicus) who only features once in Sulpicius’ Dialogues in an embedded narrative, or they may be major, such as ‘The Gaul’ (Gallus) who is the primary locutor for two thirds of the Dialogues and an important interlocutor for the remainder. An anonymous character may get away with their anonymity, that is to say, be so anonymous or even absent, like Rufinus in Sulpicius’ Dialogi, that they escape any confident attempt at identification, or not, in the case of Justina, the Arriana uxor of Valentinian I and great scourge of Nicene Christian political culture.
The use of anonymous characters in a specific text can empower the critic to consider the relationship of the text to its context. In the case of Sulpicius’ Dialogi, the anonymity of Gallus and the anonymity (or absence) of Rufinus provide a crucial window onto the reception of the recent (nuper) Origenist controversy in Gaul and, to some extent, the East (filtered perhaps through a Gallic imagination of what that reception looked like).
Anonymity may also provide us with a greater understanding of individual genres. Indeed, as Yoon has shown, in the plethora of functions that anonymity has in Greek tragedy, the critic comes closer to understanding the genre as a whole and the relationship between the key texts that constitute the genre and the author’s understanding of what effects they can achieve with anonymity and how.Footnote 81 Since the genre of dialogue is mimetic, can we do for dialogues what Altman did for epistolography, and argue that the concerns of dialogue, the features of a dialogue, are potentially shared by all (mimetic) literature?Footnote 82 Perhaps, if we think of anonymity as a scale. On one end of the scale, we have the ‘truly’ anonymous character, the individual whose name is glossed at most by an indefinite pronoun, and who is so generic in their traits and habits that the reader is left only to assume that the identity of the character is important only to the extent that they have (almost) no real identity. The archetype for this end of the scale may be the character in a short joke, ‘the (or even a) wo/man who walks into the bar’. At the other end of the scale we may find an anonymous character, whose anonymity is the thinnest of veils, pierced by the merest glance, but this is not to say that the anonymity of such a character is pointless. By shifting the hermeneutic burden on to the reader, and providing the reader with a vast range of possibilities, the author creates the conditions for the reader to enjoy a moment of revelation that is all the more powerful for the character’s anonymity, such as when the reader connects the dots between Martin’s confrontation with Valentinian I’s second wife, or Ambrose’s and in turn Justina’s role in compelling Theodosius to declare against an astutely orthodox usurper (or is that emperor?), Magnus Maximus.
Sulpicius’ Dialogues show no such concern for his own persona; in the tradition of Cicero’s dialogues, he repeatedly identifies his narratorial voice with that of his persona within the text, but this may be considered as contributing to the anonymity of Sulpicius’ other characters within the dialogue, who also appear as more anonymous in contrast to Sulpicius and Martin’s respective personae.Footnote 83 Indeed, Sulpicius’ Dialogues are very much concerned with the limits and uses of the anonymity of others. This may be understood in a myriad of ways. To some extent, Reinhartz’s hierarchy is in evidence, in the relative importance of the repeatedly named Martin relative to the many anonymous individuals he encounters in his travels.Footnote 84 Sulpicius’ use of anonymity also sheds light on the political sensitivities of late antique Gaul, in which being anonymous was one way to avoid the political and social fallout of controversial views, whether opposing Jerome, or praising Magnus Maximus. Lastly, it makes the text all the more interesting. We may not know who the characters were, but at least we can wonder.
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