1. Amor, amicitia, and homosocial relations
Catullus 50 takes the form of a verse-letter – almost, a love letterFootnote 1 – addressed to friend and fellow-poet Licinius Calvus. Catullus begins by reminiscing about the delightful hours spent in Calvus’ company the previous day, drinking, laughing, and extemporizing poetry, or ‘playing around in my writing-tablets’ (multum lusimus in meis tabellis; 50.2), as the poet puts it. So fired was he by this experience, he writes, and by Calvus’ charm and wit (tuo lepore / incensus…facetiisque; 7–8) that he has lain awake all night longing for the dawn and the opportunity for reunion with the object of his desires.Footnote 2 The result is a poem (either poem 50 itself, or – for some scholars – the Sappho translation, 51, considered in the previous chapterFootnote 3).
The poem’s highly sexualized language has sometimes led critics to suppose that Catullus and Calvus were, quite literally, lovers as well as fellow-poets; but – whatever the historical reality of the situation – our current understanding of Roman sexual mores and norms suggests that an open declaration of desire between adult, citizen males would have courted scandal and disgrace.Footnote 4 By the same token, Catullus’ framing of the relationship as (quasi-)sexual is provocative, to say the least; but it is certainly possible to understand the speaker’s flirtatious manner as aimed as much at a broader readership as at the named addressee. Catullus teases us with the possibility that the desired reunion with Calvus (ut tecum loquerer simulque ut essem, ‘that I might speak with you and be together with you’; 13) might be sexual as well as literary in nature; but the phrasing remains ambiguous throughout.Footnote 5
In this sense, poem 50 acts as a focal point where a number of themes prominent throughout the collection converge. The previous chapter explored the overlap in the Lesbia poems between poetics and erotics, literary and interpersonal urbanitas (‘smartness’, ‘sophistication’, or ‘wit’): in this poem, we can observe a similar intersection. Calvus’ lepos and facetiae (50.7–8) are both personal and literary attributes, manifesting themselves equally in conversation and in poetry: Catullus’ terminology of approbation makes no distinction between the sexual, social, and literary spheres.Footnote 6
To look at it another way, this poem might be construed as a kind of mirror image of the sequence of Lesbia epigrams considered in the previous chapter, in which Catullus exploits the vocabulary of male–male amicitia (‘friendship’ or ‘alliance’, especially between men) in framing the relationship. If heterosexual amor can be conceptualized in terms of the reciprocal bonds of duty and obligation that obtain between male amici, the language of erotic desire may conversely be applied to interpersonal but non-sexual (or not necessarily sexual) relations between men. The terminology of fides (‘loyalty’), beneuolentia (‘goodwill’), and passionate desire aptly characterizes the affective ties that bind both lovers and amici, and the sense of mutual commitment that, for Catullus, belongs ideally to both kinds of relationship.Footnote 7
Mutuality is itself thematized in poem 50, in a way that points to further connections with the culture of reciprocal exchange, and more specifically literary exchange, discussed above in relation to poem 1.Footnote 8 Amicitiae were formed and maintained among the Late Republican elite primarily through the exchange of ‘favours’, beneficia. Generally of a non-material kind, such beneficia might include the dedication of literary works, which placed the dedicatee in turn under an obligation to reciprocate. Against this background, the language of erotic desire in poem 50 can be understood as troping a specifically literary give-and-take – the more formal embodiment of the exchange of apparently improvised verses that Catullus recalls in the poem’s opening lines:Footnote 9
The two of us played around, writing now in one metre, now in another, swapping verses amid wine and laughter.
The unspecified ‘plea’ (preces; 18) to which the speaker urges his addressee to respond, on pain of offending Nemesis, may be understood as a request for a poem in response to the one we are reading, as much as for a further meeting between the poets. Catullus’ own replies to analogous requests – whether real or fictive – can be found in poems 65 and 68a, both of which are framed as polite admissions of inability to comply with the addressee’s request for a poem, in the wake of the death of the poet’s brother (see further below). Together with poems 1 and 38 (Catullus’ [?mock-]angry response to Cornificius’ failure to offer him consolation in his miseryFootnote 10), these poems testify to, and – in a sense – create a community of amici operating within a culture of literary exchange, in which writing is as much a social mechanism as a vehicle for self-expression or for engagement with literary tradition.Footnote 11
The connection between reciprocity and amicitia is thematized in a negative way in a short sequence of poems (30, 73, and 77) in which the speaker represents himself as the wronged victim of malignant or thoughtless betrayal by disloyal amici. Poem 30 dwells almost obsessively on the hallowed Roman ideal of fides or loyalty,Footnote 12 and its inverse, deceit (fallacia): the addressee, Alfenus, is alleged to have proffered friendship only to fail the speaker in his hour of need (me miserum deseris in malis; 5). Poem 77 (discussed in Chapter 2Footnote 13) similarly represents Rufus as having wormed his way into the speaker’s confidences (subrepsti, ‘you crept up on me’; 77.3), only to turn against him. In poem 73, the language of reciprocal officium is still more explicit:
Stop wanting to deserve well of anyone in any way or thinking that anyone can turn out to be loyal. There is no gratitude for anything, kindness has no worth – rather it’s wearisome, wearisome and self-destructive; so it’s proved for me, whom no one oppresses more heavily or cruelly than the man who just now called me his ‘one true friend’.
Though the vocabulary of this poem is strikingly direct, even prosaic, and would be quite at home in Cicero’s letters or in his theoretical discussions of friendship in the De officiis and De amicitia,Footnote 15 the overall effect is wildly histrionic.Footnote 16 The melodramatic generalizations of lines 1–4, underlined by verbal repetition (quoquam quicquam…/…aliquem; taedet, taedet) and alliteration, are complemented by the ‘stammering and sobbing’ sound of the final line, with its extraordinary sequence of five elisions.Footnote 17
Again, the extravagantly emotional tone of all three poems tends to blur the boundaries between male–male amicitia and heterosexual amor. We saw in Chapter 2 that the imagery of poem 77 closely resembles that of the Lesbia poem 76; and the language of 73 points in a similar direction. Erotic devotion, too, is represented as ingratus (76.6; compare ingratae…credita menti; 9), and brings no due return (76.7–9; compare also 73.2: pium with 76.2; and 73.1: bene…mereri with the complementary bene uelle at 72.8, 75.3). The speaker of poem 30, still more startlingly, resembles the seduced and abandoned Ariadne of poem 64: the addressee, Alfenus, is thoughtless (immemor; 30.1) and perfidious (perfide; 3), like his counterpart Theseus, and has thrown his empty promises to the winds (30.10; cf. 64.142).Footnote 18 In these poems, the speaker is effectively disempowered and effeminized by the betrayal of amicitia, just as he is by Lesbia’s failure to reciprocate his devotion in the erotic sphere.
Other poems, notably the sequences 12–13–14 and 35–36, and the tribute to Cinna’s recently published epyllion, Smyrna, in 95, more closely resemble poem 50 in their celebration of interpersonal and literary urbanitas. Typically, as we saw in Chapter 1, these poems operate though patterns of contrast: Pollio’s charm and wit in poem 12, and Catullus’ affection for Fabullus and Veranius in 9, 12, and 13, entitle them to a place in the poet’s sophisticated clique, whereas Asinius’ klutzy behaviour rules him out (poem 12). Similarly, the literary shortcomings of Caesius, Aquinus, Suffenus, and VolusiusFootnote 19 serve as a foil to the poetic and social finesse of Calvus (poem 14, esp. 16: salse),Footnote 20 Caecilius (poem 35, esp. 17–18: uenuste/Magna Caecilio incohata Mater, ‘the Great Mother, charmingly begun by Caecilius’), and Cinna (poem 95).Footnote 21 This last poem epitomizes Catullus’ technique, both in the precision of the opposition between Cinna’s output and that of Volusius, and in its own stylistic elegance, which embodies the very qualities for which Cinna is praised:
My friend Cinna’s Smyrna, bornFootnote 24 at last, nine harvests and nine winters since it was begun (while in the meantime the poet of Hatria <has thrown off> five hundred thousand <lines> in one <year> alone) – Smyrna will be dispatched all the way to the swift waters of Satrachus, future generations shall pore overFootnote 25 Smyrna till they are white-haired; but the Annals of Volusius will perish, right there by the Padua, and often provide loose wrapping for mackerel. Dear to me should be my friend’s miniature memorials; let the masses delight in puffed-up Antimachus.
Much could be said about the composition of this poem,Footnote 26 but particularly noteworthy for our purposes are the neatness and symmetry of the sequence of contrasts between Cinna and Volusius: Smyrna is the product of agonizingly slow (and so, by implication, careful and highly polished) composition, in contrast to Volusius’ logorrhoea (1–4); Smyrna will find readers for years to come, and as far away as the River Satrachus in Cyprus (probably an allusion to the river’s role in Cinna’s narrative), while the Annales will get no further than the Padua (i.e. where they were written, in Volusius’ home town of Hatria?Footnote 27) and will soon be used only as baking parchment (5–8). This short life coexists, paradoxically, with broad (short-term) appeal, assuming that ‘Antimachus’ in the final line is a kind of nickname for Volusius.Footnote 28 Cinna’s – notoriously obscure – poem is valued in contrast by a coterie of cognoscenti, implicitly equated, if the supplement sodalis in 9 is accepted, with the circle of the poet’s friends (9–10).
A literary triangle of a somewhat different kind is the subject of poem 35, another verse-letter addressed (in the first instance) to the papyrus on which it is written, but indirectly to another poet-friend, Caecilius. The letter is to summon Caecilius to Verona, where its author is eager to consult with his friend on the latter’s unfinished poem Magna Mater (presumably an epyllion, like the Smyrna or Catullus’ own poem 64). The spanner in the works is Caecilius’ girl, who is rumoured to have fallen madly in love with the poet after reading his work-in-progress and now (ironically) appears to be distracting him from his literary endeavours and preventing the poem’s completion.Footnote 29 Catullus’ handling of the girl is ambiguous: though her sensitivity to the power of Caecilius’ work is treated with sympathy and even admiration (she is complimented in the poem’s closing lines as ‘more erudite than Sappho’s Muse’, Sapphica…/musa doctior; 35.16–17), she also figures as an obstacle to the creative and social partnership between the two men.
Recent studies of Catullus’ poetry, under the influence of feminist scholarship on what has been termed ‘homosocial [in contradistinction to homosexual] desire’,Footnote 30 have emphasized the element of rivalry in this poem, whereby the girl is not so much an object of competition between males as an obstruction to the male–male relationship itself. A similar pattern can be traced in several other poems, often coexisting (strikingly) with a metapoetic element. Poem 6, for example, is an expansion of a familiar epigram type, in which the speaker draws attention to a friend’s haggard and dishevelled appearance, and deduces that he must be in love, and/or needles him to reveal the object of his affections.Footnote 31 Catullus wittily transfers the symptoms from the lover, Flavius, to his bedroom (the bed, rather than its occupant, is ‘worn’, attritus, and unsteady on its feet, quassa; 9–11). But the crux of the poem from our point of view is its handling of Flavius’ girl:
Flavius, if your beloved weren’t devoid of charm and style, you’d willingly tell Catullus about her and wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. You must be in love with some poxy slut, and ashamed to admit it. You obviously don’t sleep alone at night: your couch, though silent, can’t keep a secret – it reeks of garlands and Syrian perfume – nor the bolster, crushed equally at both ends, nor the way your bed, rickety from all that bumping, creaks and walks around the room. There’s no point keeping these things quiet, no point at all. Why? Your manly partsFootnote 33 wouldn’t look so fucked-out if you weren’t up to something dodgy. So come on, out with it – whatever you have to tell me, good or bad. I want to raise you and your beloved to the skies in stylish verse.
Catullus’ deployment of the vocabulary of urbanitas in this poem is pointed: the flagrantly disingenuous observations that the girl ‘must be’ a common slutFootnote 34 and the affair in some way ‘dodgy’Footnote 35 are clearly on one level an attempt to provoke Flavius into giving up his secret, but also offer a means for the poet to display his literary and social superiority. The contrast between illepidae atque inelegantes (2, of the girl) and lepido…uersu (17) hints that it is for Catullus to give or withhold the accolade of stylishness as he sees fit: his own stylish poetry will immortalize the girl one way or the other, either making her the object of derision or praising her to the skies (ad caelum uocare; 17). The anonymous female is both an obstacle to and an enabling mechanism within the homosocial relationship between the two men: she provides the occasion for competitive display and – paradoxically – reinforces the bond between Catullus and Flavius by temporarily coming between them.Footnote 36
At the same time, David Wray and others have noted a striking irony in the juxtaposition of poem 6 with the celebrated ‘kiss poems’, 5 and 7.Footnote 37 The exhortation to erotic abandon culminates in both cases in an apotropaic gesture: the infinite number of kisses that Catullus desires of Lesbia will be too many for malicious gossips to count, and the lovers will in this way become immune to the power of the ‘evil eye’ (ne quis malus inuidere possit, ‘so that no malicious person may put the evil eye on us’; 5.12; cf. 7.11–12: nec…curiosi/possint…fascinare, ‘nor prying gossips cast spells [on us]’).Footnote 38 Here, the power relations of poem 6 are precisely inverted: Catullus represents himself as potentially vulnerable to just the kind of gossip to which he himself subjects Flavius, however jocularly. In combination with the very theme of kissing, which (as poem 16 explicitly indicatesFootnote 39) may be perceived as effeminizing, this can be seen as another instantiation of the contrasting Priapic and anti-Priapic personae discussed in the previous chapter.Footnote 40 Indeed, the alternating stances of social connoisseur and injured victim adopted by Catullus in the friendship poems generally tend to conform to a similar pattern.
Similar ironies and slippages in the depiction of power relations have been detected in the closely related poem 10.Footnote 41 Here, Catullus relates in a rather chatty, informal style an anecdote revolving again around the triad of speaker–male friend–friend’s girl. In this instance, the girl is more of a presence: not only are her words quoted in direct speech but she is represented according to one interpretation as gaining the upper hand over Catullus, catching him out in a dishonest boast. The context is Catullus’ recent return from provincial service in Bithynia: in conversation with Varus and the latter’s girlfriend, he claims (while admitting the reader into his confidence as to the untruth of his own words) to have profited sufficiently from his position to have brought home a team of slaves to carry his litter. The girl calls his bluff, asking to borrow the litter-bearers for a ride to the Temple of Serapis, and Catullus is forced to climb down, confessing that the slaves are in fact the property of Gaius Cinna (the friend whose poetic genius is celebrated in 95) rather than his own. The poem ends with a sour put-down, revising the speaker’s initially positive impression of the girl:
Finding me at leisure in the forum, my friend Varus had taken me off to visit his girl – a little tart, as I saw right away, but certainly not short of wit and charm.
‘But you [the girl] are really inept and annoying, not to let a man be a little casual.’
Again here, though in a rather different way, the girl obtrudes herself as a disruptive force, impeding harmonious social interaction between the men. Again, too, the poet has the last word, ostentatiously passing judgement on his own character: initially charming, the girl soon shows herself to be socially inept, effectively excluding herself through her tactless faux pas from the urbane circle of male amici. The poem’s opening parades its unconventionality, as Varus leads his ‘leisured’ (otiosum; 2) friend away from the forum: symbolically, the move away from the central locus of public life and political negotium into the private world of love and friendship points to a rejection of the traditional Roman valorization of the public over the private sphere.Footnote 42 Yet the closing lines strikingly reassert conventional hierarchies, as the lower-class, non-citizenFootnote 43 female is put back decisively in her proper place. It is not clear, however, to what extent the reader is expected to accept this revised judgement, particularly in a poem which represents the speaker himself as disempowered and effeminized by the tyrannical high-handedness of his commanding officer.Footnote 44 How successful, we might ask ourselves, is the speaker’s attempt to regain his poise after being wrong-footed by the girl?Footnote 45
2. Fraternum dulce sodalicium: friends and brothers
If it is difficult to reach a definitive assessment of the disruptive role played by the female in poem 10, the tone of the address to male amici (or apparent amici) in two further poems has proved equally troublesome to critics. Poems 11 and 100 both – though in slightly different ways – juxtapose male solidarity with erotic desire. In 11 (briefly discussed in Chapter 2Footnote 46), Furius’ and Aurelius’ protestations of loyalty are set against the speaker’s thwarted devotion to Lesbia; in 100, Catullus muses on his relations with Caelius and Quintius in their amatory pursuit of the brother and sister Aufillenus and Aufillena. In both cases, the difficulty (or, for some critics, the key to interpretation) lies in intratextual connections with other poems: notably, Furius and Aurelius and perhaps also Quintius and Caelius appear elsewhere in the collection as rivals for the affections of Juventius or Lesbia; and Aufillena, too, crops up again in 110 and 111, in a less than attractive light.
We may, accordingly, choose to read the apparently friendly tone of 11 and 100 ironically, and the protestations of devotion as disingenuous.Footnote 47 Quintius, for example, is implored in poem 82 (a variant on the ‘betrayal of friendship’ theme discussed above) not to try to take from the speaker ‘what is much dearer to him than his own eyes, or whatever is dearer than the eyes’ (multo quod carius illi / est oculis seu quid carius est oculis; 82.3–4). Given that the phrase carior oculis is used at 104.2 of the beloved (meae vitae, ‘my life’, a common term of endearment; 104.1), it is tempting here – as in poem 77 – to see a reference to rivalry for Lesbia and her affections. Caelius, too, is the addressee of a Lesbia poem, 58, where the reference to Lesbia nostra (‘our Lesbia’; 1) has led some critics to the conclusion that he is also to be regarded as a former erotic rival.Footnote 48 Aufillena, finally, is depicted in poem 110 as worse than a common prostitute (she accepts gifts, but refuses to put out) and in 111 as both adulterous and incestuous.Footnote 49 Against this background, we might interpret poem 100 as drawing a contrast between true and false friendship: Catullus wishes for erotic success for the loyal CaeliusFootnote 50 while dismissing the deceitful Aufillena and the treacherous Quintius – though some critics see covert hostility to Caelius, too, as a former rival, reading the reference to his unica amicitia, ‘unique friendship’, as savagely ironic.Footnote 51
At the same time, poem 100 also plays on the brother–sister relationship of Aufillenus and Aufillena and the metaphorical ‘brotherhood’ of male amici:
Caelius and Quintius, flower of Veronese youth, are madly in love with Aufillenus and Aufillena, one with the brother, one with the sister. So this is the ‘sweet brotherly love’ that people talk about, in the true sense of the word!
In these opening lines of the poem, the emphasis lies on the friendship between Caelius and Quintius (rather than either’s friendship with Catullus). The striking balance of the opening five-word hexameter is underlined by the metre (the spondaic fifth foot is unusual in the elegiacs, and almost always associated with Greek proper names or otherwise Hellenizing contexts),Footnote 52 and reinforced by hic…ille (‘the one…the other’) in line 3; in line 2, the pair are subsumed under the shared designation ‘flower of Veronese youth’. Line 4 constitutes a kind of internal punchline: citing an apparently proverbial phrase, Catullus jokes that Caelius and Quintius have taken ‘brotherly love’ to extremes by setting their sights on siblings.Footnote 53
The notion of ‘brotherly love’ is, indeed, a suggestive one in the context of Catullus’ collection, though this is the only time that the phrase is used with reference to friendship. Fraternal devotion of a more literal variety is prominent, however, in three poems, 65, 68 (a and b), and 101, the last being among Catullus’ most famous and oft-quoted works:Footnote 54
Journeying through many peoples and over many seas, I have come, brother, for these pitiful rites, to give you the last gift of the dead and speak to your dumb ashes – in vain, for fortune has stolen you away from me. Ah, my poor brother, undeservedly taken from me! Yet now, at any rate, receive these gifts which according to the ancient custom of our forefathers are given as funeral offerings, a sorrowful duty – receive them, wet through with a brother’s tears, and, for evermore, my brother, hail and farewell.
Here, the familial relationship between Catullus and his brother is very strongly emphasized by the thrice-repeated frater (‘brother’; 2, 6, 10), perhaps recalling the conclamatio or ritual invocation of the deceased which formed part of the funeral ceremony.Footnote 55 Yet recent readings of the poem point to a structural similarity between Catullus’ lament and the ‘betrayal of friendship’ poems: 101 transposes into a (still) more sombre key the rupture of reciprocal relations bemoaned in the sequence of poems considered above. The irrevocable severance of communication suggested by the stark juxtaposition mutam…alloquerer Footnote 56 cinerem (‘to speak to dumb ashes’; 4) is poignantly underlined by the speaker’s apparent doubts as to the efficacy of the ancestral rites he has come so far to perform. Feldherr (2000) argues persuasively that the tension between communication and isolation so strikingly embodied here reflects ambiguities inherent in Roman funerary ritual itself, which ultimately sought to re-establish the boundary between the living and the dead, even while perpetuating the memory of the deceased. But the insertion of the plaintive nequiquam between mutam and alloquerer might appear nevertheless to call the adequacy of the ritual into question, even as the speaker carries it out;Footnote 57 and some scholars have detected a note of provisionality in line 7, nunc…interea (‘now, at any rate’): in default of anything better, the ritual will have to do.Footnote 58
When 101 is set alongside the other poems in which the brother’s death is mentioned, there emerge further connections with some of the central concerns of Catullus’ poetry, discussed in this and previous chapters: as well as exchange and reciprocity, this group of poems interlocks with the Catullan themes of poetry and poetics, gender roles, and the interplay between amor and amicitia.Footnote 59 Both 65 and 68a are epistolary in form, and offer graceful apologies to a friend for an inability to fulfil his request for a poem: Catullus is too overwhelmed by grief to ‘bring forth the delightful offspring of the Muses’ (dulcis Musarum expromere fetus; 65.3; cf. 68.25–6). Once again, emotion (here grief rather than amor) constitutes a barrier to the fulfilment of officia and disrupts the bonds of (homo)social reciprocity – a disruption underlined by the fact that the brother is never named by Catullus, here or elsewhere.Footnote 60 Again, too, as in the Lesbia poems, excessive and uncontrolled emotion is gendered feminine.Footnote 61 Tellingly, Catullus self-identifies in this context with a series of female models: ‘the Daulian bird’ – that is, the metamorphosed Aedon or Procne, who was transformed into a nightingale after killing her own child Itys/Itylus (65.13–14); the Homeric Penelope, who uses the same simile in reference to her own interminable weeping at Od. 19.518–23; the forgetful fiancée in the simile at the end of poem 65, whose carelessness in allowing her lover’s gift to fall from her lap tropes the embarrassment that the poet feels in the all-consuming grief that prevents him from fulfilling his addressee’s commission; and Laodamia and Helen at 68.73–8 and 101–30, both of whom, as we saw in Chapter 2, bear strong if implicit resemblance to the poem’s speaker.Footnote 62
Intertextual links with the Odyssey are still more prominent in the opening of 101, however – and this time it is the male hero Odysseus to whom Catullus implicitly likens himself. The directionality of Catullus’ journey, from Italy to the Troad (identified as the site of the brother’s tomb at 65.7–8 and 68.97–100), reverses that of Odysseus from Troy to Ithaca; and the anaphoric multas per gentes et multa per aequora (1) strikingly echoes Od. 1.3–4:
He saw the cities of many people and knew their minds, and on the sea he suffered many pains in his heart.
G. B. Conte, who first noted this allusion, suggests that the epic intertext sheds a heroic glamour on the memory of the deceased; equally, we could see the speaker himself as recouping his masculinity by modelling himself on the Homeric hero.Footnote 63 But the contrasts between Odysseus and Catullus – who travels away from, not towards home; enjoys no happy reunion with his family; and (unlike the Homeric hero in Book 11 of the Odyssey) cannot communicate successfully with the dead – can be seen as equally important, both generically (as often, Catullus implicitly contrasts his poetics of the nugatory and ‘slender’ with the high style of epicFootnote 64) and in terms of self-fashioning. As we saw in the case of the Lesbia poems, even in these poems of mourning, Catullus wavers between two identities,Footnote 65 constantly undercutting his performance of a fully masculine role by adopting a feminized voice, yet repeatedly reasserting his masculinity in the face of the effeminizing force of strong emotion.
The imagery of childbirth noted above in relation to poem 65 points to a further dimension of the brother poems which has been seen as crucial to the interpretation of the collection by two recent critics, Skinner and Schafer.Footnote 66 Skinner’s sequential reading of the elegiac libellus (as she terms poems 65–116) culminates in the suggestion that Catullus implicitly represents himself as abandoning both love and poetry in favour of familial responsibilities – another properly masculine role, according to the dictates of the Roman elite code of values. The reiterated phrase tecum una tota est nostra sepulta domus (‘with you our whole house lies buried’; 68.22 = 68.94) may be taken to imply that familial continuity now rests with Catullus alone, as the sole surviving son and heir; and that his rejection of legitimate marriage in favour of his adulterous relationship with Lesbia would entail the end of the family line. Thus, Catullus can only fulfil his familial officium by both surrendering his quasi-marital relationship with Lesbia and forgoing the ‘offspring of the Muses’ in favour of a more prosaic and literal biological progeny. Like the comic hero, the Catullan speaker is finally assimilated into the conventional cultural framework against which he initially rebels. Schafer, similarly, contrasts the celebration of legitimate marriage in the carmina maiora, especially the epithalamia 61 and 62, with the extra-marital relations in which the poet depicts himself as engaged. On Schafer’s sequential analysis of the collection, like that of Skinner, the social conventions of marriage and the production of legitimate children are ultimately reaffirmed: for all the lover’s wilful blindness and determination to persist in his adulterous affair – as suggested especially by poems 68b, 107, and 109 – Catullus the poet has already made it clear that the relationship is both antisocial and doomed to failure. Whether or not we accept this interpretation of the marriage and childbirth themes, however, we can nevertheless add the ‘vertical’ male line to the ‘horizontal’ links between male amici as a further dimension of the bond between masculine subjects that is both enabled and disrupted by the female.Footnote 67
In its depiction of friendship and familial relationships, as in other ways, Catullus’ collection can be seen both to challenge and to reinforce traditional gender roles. Assimilating heterosexual amor to male–male amicitia, and vice versa, the poet comes close to collapsing the clearly demarcated social and sexual norms that prevailed among the contemporary Roman elite; at the same time, the recurrent motif of the disruptive female who must be (symbolically or actually) excluded in order to facilitate the smooth operation of homosocial relations serves to reinscribe the lines of demarcation that Catullus has himself blurred.