|
Into this rotting society, in the last year of the Republic, was born the poet Ovid, author of that dubious and durable jest, The Art of Love. It was a controversial work then; it was still more controversial in the Middle Ages; it is controversial even today. Was it a satire? Or a rake's guide masquerading as satire? A mere literary exercise? A milestone of civilization? 'A manual of cynicism' (Andre Maurois)? Or 'perhaps the most immoral work ever written by a man of genius' (Encyclopaedia Britannica)
Frivolous Rome society laughed over The Art of Love, but the Emperor Augustus decided that it was a licentious work ill-calculated to disperse the smell of decaying morals which hung over Rome. For this reason, and for, another perhaps weightier reason not disclosed, he rusticated the author.
If the more notorious passages of the poem are to be taken literally, they are shocking enough. For instance (says Ovid), a lover should always ingratiate himself with the woman's husband, as this cannot fail to smooth his path. The best time to court a resisting wife is when she has just discovered her husband to be unfaithful; she will then grant her favours out of revenge. The suitor should first debauch the mistress's maid, who will then incite her employer to be unfaithful to her husband. And so on.
The love of which Ovid writes is neither grand passion, nor young love, nor married love. It is a pursuit of the other man's wife, conducted as a sport, though with few sporting rules; a cheerfully immoral sport, but never a morbid one, and never anything more than a sport. The victims enjoy it too:
Fair Phoebe and her sister did prefer.
To their dull mates, the noble ravisher. And again: This is the Sex; they will not first begin.
But, when compell'd, are pleased to suffer sin. If Ovid's work had social value, this lay chiefly in the notion that love, even disreputable love, had a technique worthy of study. Gaining a mistress was only the beginning; to keep her faithful was the task of Art.
Much of the detailed advice in The Art of Love is discontertingly modern, and is to be found echoed in up-to-date etiquette books, sex books and, not least, in advertisers' announcements. The poet gives detailed instructions on how to Squire a lady at public entertainments and banquets, how to show a suitable discretion when meeting her unexpectedly in the street, how to approach her when she is ill in bed. The suitor must flatter her incessantly. He must lose to her at gambling. He must be sedulous in brushing dust, real or imaginary, from her cloak. Her loose mantle must not be allowed to trail in the dirt; an enterprising man, scooping up its folds, will contrive for himself a rewarding glimpse of leg. At the circus he must watch that those sitting behind her do not thrust their knees into her back (still a common nuisance at circuses). He must laugh with her, and weep when she weeps. If he cannot weep to order he should consider moistening his eye with his finger. If he can contrive to look pale, so much the better, for she will think he is sick and that she is the cause. At the dinner-table he will lose no opportunity of establishing secret contact between feet and hands. He will make a point of applying his lips to the part of the cup which her lips have touched. If she reminds himof his disreputable past he will caress her until she desists. He will ply her with gifts, but not until it hurts; flowers or fruit bought round the corner may be represented as coming from his country estates. He should make assignations with her at the baths, first bribing the keeper who looks after her clothes. All Rome is made for love. The purpose of doors is to conceal dalliance; windows are emergency entrances (or exits).
Ovid says much about the need for personal hygiene. A woman with strong-smelling breath should not converse on an empty stomach or approach too near her lover. She must clean her teeth, but never in his presence; and she must learn to smile without showing those teeth which are blackened or irregular. 'Superfluous hair' and 'Body Odour' are not forgotten:
A stubbled leg your suitor will not charm,
And-dare I warn?-no goat below the arm.
Men, however, are not required to scrape the hairs from their legs. They should never use instruments to curl their hair, and they should ensure that the barber does not cut their locks ridiculously short on top. A man should strive for a careless beauty, but should not let carelessness extend to his finger-nails, or to his nostrils, which must not sprout whiskers. When kissing he should not scrape his mistress's cheek with his bristles, and at all times he should be particularly careful not to disarrange her hair.
Women are given confident advice on the hair styles best suited to different shapes of face, and on the dyeing of hair. They are cautioned against plastering themselves too thickly with cosmetics. A woman with a full bosom is recommended to wear a stomacher.
Ovid has much to say to both parties about the employment of the woman's maid as a go-between. In gaining her good graces (for the purpose already stated), the lover should refrain if possible from making love to her, and should give her frugal presents only. The girl can carry notes in her bosom or in her shoe, or even-a broadminded concession-allow messages to be written on her back. If desired, the words can be written invisibly in milk, which needs only to be rubbed with coal to make them legible. It would be pleasant to think that Roman lovers did communicate in such a fashion, and that this was not just a poet's flight of fancy. Recognizing, perhaps, that some lovers might become too interested in the messenger when deciphering the message, Ovid cautions the mistress against employing too fascinating a maid.
Such were the rules of wooing in Roman society when Christ was living.
|