Dear Cicero,
I don't have a
brother, but it is clear to see that if I did, I could do a lot worse
than Quintus. I have three sisters, and perhaps I will tell you
about them some day, but this morning I want to talk to you about
Quintus.
It is Saturday
morning, in the late days of March, 2019CE. I am seated in bed, my
hands cast shadows on the keyboard as I type, illuminated by the
beautiful soft morning light. We have had mist overnight and the air
smells fresh and damp and despite the ever lengthening drought, today
feels like Autumn. It makes me very happy.
Your brother made
you happy, Cicero. Oh I know that you quarrelled, and historians may
focus on the schism between you during the dictatorship of Caesar,
but I wanted to write to you about love. I have been reading Ovid,
and Plato, so love has been on my mind a lot, but in your letters to
Quintus I found some startling and beautiful examples of the
affection that you felt for your brother. I have just finished
reading the first volume of your collected letters, it has taken me
the better part of a year to read them. Sometimes funny, sometimes
incredibly sad, your letters serve us in the present world as a
glowing example of the unchanging nature of humanity. The names of
the politicians may change, but the games they play do not. The
circumstances of your life may be unique to your time, but the
emotions you felt, and the passions you express are a common ground
between us.
I cannot hope to
describe the whole nature of Quintus' character, or of your
relationship with him. As I said, I have only read one volume of
your five volume set of letters. What I can, and will do in this
letter is share with you the delightful evidence of your brotherly
kindness and love, which has had a peculiarly powerful effect on me.
As always, I will
quote from the Shuckburgh translation of 1899.
CXXII (q fr ii,
8)
CICERO TO HIS
BROTHER QUINTUS (AT ROME)
Cumæ(April)
bc55 aet. 51
Afraid that
you will interrupt me—you? In the first place, if I were as busy as
you think, do you know what interruption means? Have you taken a
lesson from Ateius? So help me heaven, in my eyes you give me a
lesson in a kind of learning which I never enjoy unless you are with
me. Why, that you should talk to me, interrupt me, argue against me,
or converse with me, is just what I should like. Nothing could be
more delightful! Never, by Hercules, did any crazy poet read with
greater zest his last composition than I listen to you, no matter
what business is in hand, public or private, rural or urban. But it
was all owing to my foolish scrupulousness that I did not carry you
off with me when I was leaving town. You confronted me the first time
with an unanswerable excuse—the health of my son: I was silenced.
The second time it was both boys, yours and mine: I acquiesced. Now
comes a delightful letter, but with this drop of gall in it—that
you seem to have been afraid, and still to be afraid, that you might
bore me. I would go to law with you if it were decent to do so; but,
by heaven! if ever I have a suspicion of such a feeling on your part,
I can only say that I shall begin to be afraid of boring you at
times, when in your company.
It
would be so delightful to have Quintus' letters to you. We have only
one, and its authenticity is disputed. Having read the letter
reportedly written by Quintus to you, giving his advice regarding
your efforts to secure the office of Consul, I do feel that it
is authentic. There is a similarity in style to your own manner of
writing, but at the same time, I have a feeling of Quintus having
learned this style from you, and put it to good effect in giving your
some sound advice on the political tactics to be used to secure your
desired goal. I might quote from that letter later on, but for now,
I wanted to quote from a few more personal exchanges.
CXXXI (q fr ii,
9)
CICERO TO HIS
BROTHER QUINTUS (IN THE COUNTRY)
Rome (February)
Your
note by its strong language has drawn out this letter. For as to what
actually occurred on the day of your start, it supplied me with
absolutely no subject for writing. But as when we are together we are
never at a loss for something to say, so ought our letters at times
to digress into loose chat. Well then, to begin, the liberty of the
Tenedians has received short shrift, no one speaking for them except
myself, Bibulus, Calidius, and Favonius. A complimentary reference to
you was made by the legates from Magnesia and Sipylum, they saying
that you were the man who alone had resisted the demand of L. Sestius
Pansa. On the remaining days of this business in the senate, if
anything occurs which you ought to know, or even if there is nothing,
I will write you something every day. On the 12th I will not fail you
or Pomponius. The poems of Lucretius are as you say—with many
flashes of genius, yet very technical. But when you return, ... if
you succeed in reading the Empedoclea of Sallustius, I shall regard
you as a hero, yet scarcely human.
A
lot of your letters contain this kind of political name dropping and
minutiae that makes my head spin. The translation of your letters
that I have comes with extensive footnotes that help me make sense of
some of it, but that's not the part that I wanted to highlight. It
is the 'loose chat' that grabbed my attention. A lot of what I have
read from your era has been historical/political, a very top-down
sort of description of events and persons, often written a long time
after the events described. You, Cicero, are writing letters almost
daily describing the people and events of your own life, a fact which
makes even the dull seeming political details of this letter above,
pique my curiosity.
But
it is with Lucretius that I would like to digress now, since I have
had his book on my shelf longer than any other. I have read about
half of it, and found it beautiful, if difficult to describe. I
agree with your assessment, it flashes with genius, despite its
technical subject matter. I will quote a single line here, which,
even taken on its own, stands out.
“There
can be no centre in infinity” Bk 1, line 1070
No comments:
Post a Comment