Aratus has been notorious for his wordplay since the first decades of his reception. Hellenistic readers such as Callimachus, Leonidas, or ‘King Ptolemy’ seem to have picked up on the pun on the author's own name at Phaenomena 2, as well as on the famous λεπτή acrostic at Phaen. 783–6 that will be revisited here.Footnote 1 Three carefully placed occurrences of the adjective have so far been uncovered in the passage,Footnote 2 but for a full appreciation of its elegance we must note that Aratus has set his readers up to notice a fourth.
The adjective λεπτός (‘slender’, ‘delicate’, ‘faint’) is one of the more important programmatic adjectives in the Hellenistic arsenal, traditionally seen as signifying an elegance of style, an exclusivity of subject matter, and a scholarly sophistication that enables the poet to encapsulate a variety of literary layers in seemingly straightforward poetry. Aratus himself may have coined this use of the term,Footnote 3 and he uses it throughout the Phaenomena to mark his preference for (star) constellations that are less conspicuous but more significant.Footnote 4 It is not surprising that its use in an acrostic occurs in immediate proximity to a metapoetic passage encouraging the reader to search for hidden signs and meanings.Footnote 5 As he makes the transition from his discussion of the firmament to weather signs, Aratus notes that many of Zeus's symbols remain hidden (768–71). These, he says, can be uncovered, inter alia, in the horns of the moon (778–82):
Even though Aratus may primarily be encouraging the reader to examine the moon's real-world horns for indications of future meteorological developments, there could well be an announcement of the acrostic, coming up in the very next verse, contained in these lines as well. After all, its gamma (Γ) shape may suggest the crescent moon Aratus has asked us to look at – or look for – in his discussion of its predictive qualities at 783–7:Footnote 7
Marked in tis quotation are the three instances of λεπτή that have so far been observed. The arms of the acrostic constitute the first two. Once the reader has noticed the adjective's significance to both the content and the structure of the passage, its third occurrence (line 784) catches the eye and confirms that there is method in the madness.Footnote 8 It is important to envisage these successive recognitions as a process, the kind of revisiting of previous lines only imaginable in circles that privilege the written over the spoken word.Footnote 9 Aratus' intentional inclusion of ‘visual’ wordplay in fact draws attention to this ‘material’ aspect of his poetry, that is, to the lines of ink on his papyrus. These, unlike a verbal utterance, we can ‘read’ more than once and in more than one direction.Footnote 10 In this respect, Aratus' Hellenistic appropriation of the acrostic differs from what is usually seen as its Homeric model at Iliad 24.1–5. Here, the first letters of the relevant lines spell out ΛΕϒΚΗ, but the constraints of oral composition and performance suggest that Homer's acrostic, unlike Aratus', is accidental.Footnote 11
If we now move back a few more lines in Aratus' text (as his Hellenistic readers were accustomed to do), it turns out that the star poet provided us with far more precise instructions on how to decipher the acrostic passage than might at first have been apparent. The ‘introductory’ verses not only point out the ‘horns of the moon’ acrostic written (!) into the text (ἐπιγράϕει, 779), but also imply that the discovery of its true complexity has to be gradual. First (πρῶτον, 778), the reader has to note the two halves (ἑκάτερθε, 778) of the Γ. Then, he or she can distinguish additional shapes (ἀλλοῖαι μορϕαί, 780). More specifically, the moon is worth a third and a fourth look (αἱ μὲν τρίτῃ, αἱ δὲ τετάρτῃ, 781). This ‘numeral’ element is probably not insignificant, considering how frequently references to ‘threes’ and ‘fours’ recur in the immediate proximity (781, 783, 786, 788, 792, 796, 806, 809, 810, 812). If, however, the λεπτή in 784 was only the third instance that Aratus wanted us to notice, what is the fourth?
I believe that there is another metatextual hint, hidden this time in the acrostic itself, which tells us how to uncover the fourth λεπτή. The clue is contained in τέτρατον ἐκ τριτάτοιο (786), ‘the fourth from the third’. If we glance across the page from the Γ in the direction of the third λεπτή, then this suggests a diagonal drawn from the top left corner to the bottom of the passage. Taking this as a hint at the fourth and feeble (ἀμενηνόν, 786) λεπτή, we do indeed discover it spread out diagonally across the page:
The suspicion that we have discerned what we were meant to discover becomes more pressing if we note that, in the third to fifth lines of the acrostic, the relevant initial letters occur in the second, third, and fourth words respectively. This suggests a deliberate diagonal arrangement into a mesostich or ‘intext’,Footnote 13 and once again matches the recurring hint to look at the ‘fourth’ after the ‘third’ (781, 786).
As far as correspondences between the passage's content and its visual arrangement are concerned, it could be relevant that Aratus is describing how the moon can forecast wind or precipitation (πνευματίη, 785; ἢ νότῳ ἄμβλυνται ἢ ὕδατος ἐγγὺς ἐόντος, 787). If the Γ represents the crescent, then perhaps the diagonal λεπτή is modelled after the rain or gust of wind that emerges from it. Aratus teaches us that the moon on some such occasions is both λεπτή and ἐρευθής (‘red’, 784), and we may wonder whether the letters constituting the Γ acrostic, along with the third and fourth occurrences of λεπτή, might therefore have been written in red ink. The passage's punctilious arrangement would then have created a tongue-in-cheek visual illustration of a moon that is both the right colour and – literally – defined by the word ‘faint’.Footnote 14 Furthermore, such rubrication would have fitted in well with Aratus' noted interest in the material side of his composition, as well as with his explicit announcement that the moon is ‘inscribe[d] … with a different light’ (ἄλλῃ μιν ἐπιγράϕει ἕσπερος αἴγλῃ, 779). Of course, there is no documented case of a scribe highlighting wordplay in this manner until significantly later, so this particular detail has to remain speculative.Footnote 15 Yet my larger argument does show that we have no right to complain that Aratus divorced form (acrostic and mesostich) from content (the moon and the weather), an accusation sometimes levelled against technopaegnia, whose wordplay is ‘extrinsic to its reference’.Footnote 16 Instead, the passage's patterning reflects both the moon-as-weather-sign under immediate discussion and Aratus' larger venture to teach us how to make out meaningful constellations, be it in the night sky or on the pages of his Phaenomena.Footnote 17
In closing, let us return to the observation (first advanced by J.-M. Jacques) that, by choosing λεπτή as the object of his wordplay, Aratus is providing his readers with an elegant illustration of the literary sophistication that the adjective seems to have signified in the third century b.c.e. Befitting this subtext, a moon that is ‘slender’ and καθαρή (‘clear’, 783) – both catchwords often seen to represent ‘Hellenistic’ poetics – brings fair weather; when it is παχίων (‘rather thickish’, 785) – the metapoetic opposite, at least according to Callimachus – rain is in the offing.Footnote 18 If λεπτότης characterizes Aratus' approach to his ambitious subject matter,Footnote 19 then our discovery of the true number of λεπτή adjectives in Phaen. 783–7 (‘true’, that is, unless anyone discovers a fifth or sixth) can help determine the depth of this refinement. We may remember in this context that Antigonos Gonatas reportedly complimented Aratus on having made his model Eudoxus εὐδοξότερον.Footnote 20 I, in turn, hope our sighting of a fourth λεπτή will make the true subtleness of λεπτολόγος (in more than one sense) ἌρατοςFootnote 21 even less ἄρρητον.