58 pages • 1 hour read
Statius, Transl. Jane Wilson JoyceA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Character Analysis
Themes
Symbols & Motifs
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Tools
Statius opens his poem with a traditional invocation to the Muses, asking for their help recounting a tale of “Brothers crossing swords; held by turns, their kingdom, vied for in fiendish hatred” (1-2). He briefly touches on the troubled history of the royal family of Thebes as a whole (4-14), but zeroes in on his true subject: the dysfunctional house of Oedipus. After a brief panegyric, or formal praise, to the emperor Domitian (17-33), we enter the epic proper.
Blind and wretched, Oedipus, the former king of Thebes, languishes in a dark dungeon. He prays to the infernal “gods who rule over guilty souls,” specifically the Fury Tisiphone, reminding her (and the reader) of his story. Dictated by Fate, Oedipus unknowingly killed his own father and married his mother, with whom he fathered several children (59-64). When he finally learned the truth, Oedipus blinded himself.
Oedipus now accuses his sons, Eteocles and Polynices, of gross neglect (74-9). As Jupiter, the king of the gods and usual divine arbiter of justice, has not punished them for dishonoring and ignoring their father, Oedipus turns to the gods of the Underworld. He urges Tisiphone to put Eteocles and Polynices in deadly conflict with each other (70-87). “Faster than Jove’s [Jupiter’s] bolt,” Tisiphone speeds from hell to Thebes, which she likes “better than home” because it is the site of so many interfamilial crimes (102). Statius gives a vibrant description of her horrific appearance (97-122). Tisiphone’s presence in the Theban palace has an instant effect: “Madness stirred up sibling rivalry, as did Envy, / sickened by joy, and Fear, source of hatred” (126-7).
Currently Eteocles and Polynices have a unique arrangement for sharing the throne. Every year one brother rules, and the other is exiled from the realm. This “bad decree […] forced Fortune to shift” (138-64). In other words, their solution solved nothing, and the brothers are in constant destructive conflict. The citizens of Thebes, “at odds with their Head of State / and—such is the way with people—in love with the man up next,” resent the fickleness of both their leaders and the gods (169-79). They note the tyrannical nature of this year’s ruler, Eteocles, against the apparent clemency of his brother Polynices (186-90).
In heaven, the gods have a meeting. Their leader, Jupiter, is a threatening presence; the other gods fear him (201-5). Jupiter, responsible for maintaining justice on earth, is frustrated at mankind’s many crimes, particularly those of the house of Oedipus and the house of Tantalus, an Argive king who cooked up his own son and served him as a meal to the gods (214-47). Jupiter intends to punish Oedipus and Tantalus’s respective cities: Thebes and Argos.
Jupiter’s wife (and sister), Juno, is distressed. Despite Jupiter’s many affairs in Argos, it is one of her favorite cities (she has no love for Thebes, however, which is where Jupiter’s affair with a Theban princess, Semele, resulted in the birth of Bacchus) (250-9). Jupiter acknowledges her anger and is sure Bacchus would speak up for Thebes, too, “but that my majesty shocks and awes [him]” (288-9). He moves forward with his plan anyways, ordering Mercury to raise the ghost of Oedipus’s slain father, Laius, to goad Eteocles to war.
Statius shifts the scenes to this year’s exile, Polynices, who is travelling in Argos (312-46). At nightfall, animals begin to take their rest, but a wild storm rises (346-63). Polynices flees to a town called Inachus. Its king, Adrastus, has no sons, but the oracular god Apollo has promised him sons-in-law shortly (364-400). Soon after Polynices, the hero Tydeus arrives, fleeing his home of Calydon in guilt and horror after killing his brother. “Fortune afflicted [Tydeus and Polynices] with blind rage and a thirst for blood” and they fight over a place to sleep until they wake Adrastus, suggesting that one day they might be fast friends and smile at this memory (470-7).
Adrastus notices that Polynices wears a lion pelt and Tydeus sports the hide and tusks of the Calydonian boar, fulfilling Apollo’s prophecy mentioned in lines 395-6. He thanks the goddess of Night that they are to be his sons-in-law (482-509). Adrastus orders a feast; Polynices and Tydeus apologize to one another. Adrastus’ daughters strike them both as being very beautiful (510-38).
Adrastus pours a libation to Apollo and explains why their town worships him so ardently. After slaying the monstrous snake Python at Delphi, Apollo had sought to cleanse his blood guilt in their town. There he raped the king’s daughter, who, fearing punishment from her father, hid the child that resulted with shepherds. The infant was torn apart by dogs. The king’s daughter was unable to hide her grief and revealed to be the child’s mother, and her father ordered her execution (557-95).
In punishment, Apollo sent an infant-eating monster to harass the town. A local hero, Coroebus, killed her, and the locals mutilated her body (596-626). Newly enraged at the killing of his monster, Apollo then inflicted the townspeople with his plague arrows. To make it stop, the king ordered the execution of Coroebus. Unafraid, Coroebus accuses Apollo, “O Lord Unjust,” of cruelty towards mankind (643-61). He welcomed death if it would cause Apollo to dispel the plague from Inachus. Apollo “lavished an unwelcome boon / on the hero” and spared his life (663-4). The Inachians worship the god for this reason.
His story finished, Adrastus asks Polynices for his own. Polynices hesitates, knowing his family’s reputation, but Adrastus rebukes him. “Stop whining,” he says, “and telling over as yours / the woes of your forebears! […] Guilt stands in no descendant’s way. / You need only by unlike your kin” (687-91). He prays again, praising Apollo (692-720).
Mercury, on orders from Jupiter, leads the ghost of Laius up out of the Underworld. Statius describes Mercury and Laius’s ascent up the path of Taenaros, leaving behind the “shrieking and groans of the guilty—the countryside swarms with a dark / congregation” (51-2). When they arrive at Thebes, Laius sees the bloody spoils of his defeat by Oedipus and wants to leave (65-70). The Thebans are holding a horrifying festival in honor of the birth of Bacchus, whose mother, Semele, lived there (71-88).
Mercury brings the ghost of Laius to the sleeping Eteocles. Laius takes on the appearance of the famous Theban seer Tiresias and, as commanded by Jupiter, urges him to war with Polynices. He chides Eteocles for his sleepy inaction and tells him of Polynices’ politically advantageous marriage in Argos, as well as his new ally, the fierce Tydeus. With dawn approaching, Laius abandons his disguise and reveals himself to be Eteocles’s grandfather. Bearing the wound in his throat from Oedipus, he floods the dream with blood (89-124). Eteocles thrashes awake screaming with horror and anger at his brother; Statius compares him to a tigress (125-33).
An ornate metaphor for sunrise follows: the dawn goddess Aurora flees the pursuing Morning Star (134-40). In Argos, a nervous Adrastus tells Polynices and Tydeus that he is sure that Apollo and Fate guided them here to marry his daughters (152-72). Tydeus and Polynices share a glance; Tydeus speaks first. Heaping praises on Adrastus, he tells him they are more than happy to marry into his family. Polynices agrees (173-97). In exchange, Adrastus promises to help them both take back their thrones in their homelands (197-200).
The goddess Rumor spreads the news through the Argive countryside and all the way to Thebes, confirming Eteocles’ fears (201-13). At the opulent wedding, the brides Argia and Deipyle are frightened; “love of virginity stirred / one last time, and their faces flushed with bashful thoughts / of that first transgression” (231-4). Suddenly, the ceremony is interrupted. A bronze shield falls from the citadel’s temple to the virgin goddess Minerva, and a great trumpet is heard within. The wedding party pretends not to have heard the dire omen (251-64).
Statius tells us why it happened. One of the brides, Argia, is wearing Harmony’s necklace, a gift from her groom-to-be, Polynices (265-7). The necklace is a cursed heirloom of the Theban household. It all started when the blacksmith god Hephaestus discovered his wife, Venus, goddess of sexual desire, having an affair with the war god Mars. Hephaestus forged the necklace as a curse for their daughter, Harmony, who married Cadmus, the first king of Thebes. Since then, the necklace has quietly haunted the Theban royal house. Harmony was turned into a snake. Harmony’s daughter, Semele, mother of Bacchus, wore the necklace when she boasted to Juno of her affair with, leading to her horrific death. Oedipus’s mother and wife, Jocasta, once owned it, too (267-97). Now Argia is wearing it. Another woman, Eriphyle, the wife of the Argive seer Amphiaraus, is consumed with envy for the necklace (297-305).
After the wedding, Polynices turns to his thoughts to retaking Thebes. He recalls the shame and loneliness of being left unprotected and abandoned by his allies when he lost the throne; only one of his sisters (likely the compassionate Antigone) stood by his side. His wife Argia senses his mood and asks what he is plotting. She is not afraid for herself but for him. Rumor has it Eteocles is raring for a fight, and the omens look dire (332-52). Polynices comforts her, confident that Jupiter and Justice will support him. He leaves (353-63).
Meanwhile, Tydeus heads to Thebes as an envoy for Polynices. There he sees the tyrannical Eteocles, who is now ruling beyond his one-year term, complaining that Polynices has sent his request for the transfer of power late (387-8). The hot-headed Tydeus condemns him for his lie and tells him it is time to pack up and leave (389-409).
Eteocles highlights how vicious Tydeus’s manner is and how vicious Polynices must be as the originator of his message. He gives Tydeus this message for Polynices: I am keeping the throne of Thebes, you keep the riches and connections you have amassed in Argos. He is sure Argia will find the women of the Theban court dreary—e.g. his mother Jocasta and sister Antigone—and he thinks it a shame to subject the people “by now, schooled to [his] yoke, to constant fluxes in leadership (415-51).
Tydeus interrupts him, roaring that Eteocles must return the throne to Polynices. “Is this piety,” he asks, “this your fair word?” (462). He suggests Eteocles must be the one true son of Oedipus indeed, to commit such heinous crimes and attacks away through the unsuspecting guards. Statius compares his battle rage to the hero-killing Calydonian Boar he once slew. The mothers of Thebes curse him and, internally, their own king (451-81).
Without delay Eteocles reacts in kind, ordering his retinue to assassinate Tydeus, despite his being an envoy, a position usually under protection (482-95). They plan to ambush him in a nearby gorge, but Tydeus spots the glint of their shields in the trees before they can attack (483-535). They almost kill him, but he heaves a huge stone downhill, crushing many. He finishes off those who remain in violent hand-to-hand combat; Statius spares no gory detail (536-648). When one man begs mercy, Tydeus denies him (649-68). He would have tried to kill Eteocles right then and there, had not his patron deity Minerva, goddess of war and wisdom, intervened and called him off (682-89). Tydeus sends the sole survivor (Maeon) to Eteocles with a message to prepare for war and dedicates his spoils to Minerva. He promises her a temple back home in Calydon, should he and Polynices be victorious (690-743).
In Thebes, Eteocles is upset at the delay of the return of his men, alternating between fear and rage. Statius compares him to a sailor beset by a sudden storm (23-32). At daybreak, an earthquake hits, presaging the return of the sole survivor: Maeon (33-52). Maeon reports to Eteocles that the others are dead and that he did not survive because he begged for mercy; rather, “the Gods’ commands deprived me of my end” (67-8). To show how little he cares for his own life, he tells Eteocles that he has started an evil, lawless war that will cause great anger among his people (69-7). Before Eteocles and his guards can kill him, he commits suicide (83-91). When his kin try to take his corpse home, Eteocles forbids the body from being properly cremated. Statius addresses Maeon directly, praising his courage to “scorn kings outright and make sacred a way whereby / Freedom might come in full” (99-113).
Led by a personification of Grief, the Thebans mourn the dead (114-33). Statius concentrates especially on the mothers. Ide addresses the corpses of her twin sons who died in each other’s arms, believing barren women to be luckier than she (133-68). As they build funeral pyres, the elderly Aletes recounts other Theban tragic myths, saying few low moments compare to this day (e.g. the death of Semele, the death of the hunter Actaeon). Only Niobe, whose boasting resulted in the deaths of all her children, suffered something similar (191-98). He blames the carnage on Eteocles, whom he believes will pay the price (174-215).
In heaven, Jupiter summons Mars, the god of war, to goad Argos on to fight. He orders the other gods not to oppose this war, which is fated; “If you object to my making this generation pay / for crimes of old […] I swear / with my own hand I’ll shake Thebes off her foundations” (239-52). His orders stun them; “You’d think they had / mortal minds, the way they held their tongues and breath—hushed / as those days when the winds’ extended treaty lulls / the sea” (253-6).
Mars gleefully turns his chariot to Argos, but is stopped cold by Venus. She is shocked Mars could fight against Thebes, where their descendants live (remember that their daughter Harmony married Thebes’s first king, Cadmus) (260-90). Mars embraces her and while tells her that while he cares deeply for her, destiny and Jupiter’s plan must not be opposed. “How would I have the effrontery,” he asks, “to thwart Jove and flaunt the laws ordered by him?” (304-7). He claims he will assist their kin as he can and continues on.
Meanwhile, the wounded Tydeus has almost made it back to Argos. Throughout the Argive countryside he and the goddess Rumor spread the news: Eteocles tried to kill an envoy in a cowardly nighttime siege and refuses to yield the throne to Polynices (324-44). He crows for war in Adrastus’s court (345-364). Polynices leaps on the opportunity, claiming he will freely go to certain death to reclaim his homeland (and checking the crowd’s reaction—“he angles for favor,” 382). The Inachidae are ready to go to war but Adrastus voices his reluctance, believing Eteocles will not rule long (386-93).
For seven days Mars and personifications of strife—Anger, Rage, Rumor, etc.—spread hunger for war in the countryside (407-39). Adrastus wavers, equally fearful of commitment and inaction (440-9). He decides to consult the seers Amphiaraus and Melampus for advice. The two men first try haruspicy—studying the entrails of sacrificial victims—but when the omens there look bad, they turn to studying the flight of birds (auspicy). On Mount Aphesas, they ask Jupiter to send them a sign (460-96).
Neither man has ever seen such chaos in the sky. Vultures and hawks screech and fight. They notice a flock of swans, which they link to Thebes, as they seem to circle in a defensive formation (524-29). Seven eagles attack the swans. At first the eagles seem victorious, but each is killed horrifically in turn (530-47). Amphiaraus and Melampus regret ever looking at all; they hate the gods for revealing this catastrophe to them (549-51). In an aside, Statius wonders why mankind sought out prophecies and what good seeing the future has done them (551-65).
Neither seer reports the omens to the Argives. Amphiaraus returns to Inachus; in shame and fear, Melampus stays in the countryside as Jupiter’s command stirs all of Argos to war (575-97). Finally the war-mad Capaneus sieges Amphiaraus’s house, demanding the truth of the omen. Amphiaraus emerges, claiming that he is unafraid—he will not die at the hands of a mortal (foreshadowing his unusual death at the end of Book 7). Rather, his love of country drives him to now share how awful the omens are (620-47). Capaneus mocks him as an effeminate coward and warns Amphiaraus to keep out of his way. The crowd roars with approval (648-76).
Polynices’ wife Argia begs her father Adrastus to start the war. Polynices’ honor and happiness is on the line, so she begs for “this harsh and joyless / boon” (706-7). Adrastus tells her he is burdened by the difficulties of kingship and delays properly preparing for war (712-9).
Like many ancient epics, the Thebaid is an erudite work. Statius assumes his reader to be familiar not only with a rich tapestry of Greek and Roman myth but also with other epics which came before. Epic is an essentially reflective genre: The mark of a good epic poet was not originality but rather the ability to rework predecessors’ themes and set pieces into a new and unique work. To this end, the Thebaid’s main point of reference is Virgil’s Aeneid, published one hundred years earlier (around 19 BCE) and widely acknowledged to be one of the most important and influential works in western literature. Statius also looks to Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Lucan’s Civil War, and Greek and Roman tragedy.
Statius wrote the Thebaid in dactylic hexameter, the traditional form for epic poetry, and his prose is noted for its vivid imagery and musical, sonically pleasant nature. The Thebaid was an especially important influence on Christian philosophers and writers, as Statius was the first Roman poet to make extensive use of personifications of virtues and vices as characters (e.g. Devotion, Clemency), a significant literary development.
Statius enjoyed great popularity throughout the Middle Ages and Renaissance. His presence is clearly felt in Dante’s Inferno, where he even features as a character. But Statius fell out of favor in the modern age, though his and Aeschylus’s motif of the Seven Against Thebes continued to inspire pop culture in movies like Akira Kurosawa’s “Seven Samurai” (1954) and its western remake, “The Magnificent Seven” (1960). Statius has only more recently enjoyed a revival with academics and literary critics, with particular praise given to his clear-eyed critique of imperialism and unsettling insight into the true nature of power.
The tragedy of the house of Oedipus had been well-covered by Statius’s time, most famously by Greek tragedians of the classical period like Euripides (Phoenician Women and Suppliants) and Sophocles (Antigone and Oedipus at Colonus). The most important Greek intertext for the work, though, is Aeschylus’s Seven Against Thebes, which roughly covers the same portion of the myth. After the Greek tragedians, Roman poets also treated the Theban cycle—most notably Ovid in Book 3 of his Metamorphoses—but the more direct influence on the Thebaid was the dramatist and poet Seneca the Younger, a friend of Statius whose Theban tragedies Oedipus and Phoenissae were likely composed in Statius’s lifetime.
The prologue of Statius’s Thebaid opens with a revealing description of its theme. His subject will not be glorious or noble; rather, Statius will write of civil war—the most dysfunctional type of conflict—not just between two rival contenders for the throne but between two brothers. This places his Thebaid in close dialogue with Lucan’s Civil War, another Roman epic, which concentrated on the civil war between Julius Caesar and Pompey the Great. The repulsiveness of his topic makes Statius perform uneasiness for the reader. In some ways, recounting such events is, in itself, a sin. Unusually for epic poems, Statius invokes the Muses to help him twice and will go on to ask their assistance more frequently than any other epic poet.
The Thebaid’s prologue is synoptic, outlining the major events of the poem. Statius is also forthcoming about what he will not cover: the reign of the contemporary leader of Rome, the emperor Domitian. That being said, it is impossible to ignore the similarities between the messy political situation in Thebes and the messy politics of the Roman imperial court (on this, see “Monarchal Power and Imperial Politics” in Themes).
Statius expects his reader to be familiar with the Theban cycle—the story of Oedipus and his family—so it is useful to give a brief summary of the events before the Thebaid here. Oedipus was born to King Laius and Queen Jocasta of Thebes. After a prophecy revealed that Oedipus was fated to kill his father, Laius left the infant on a hillside to die. Kindly shepherds saved Oedipus; he was raised by the king and queen of a neighboring kingdom, Polybus and Merope. Oedipus soon learned from the oracle of Delphi that he was fated to kill his father and marry his mother. Horrified and unaware who his real parents were, he fled from his home. In the process, he met King Laius, on the road. An altercation followed and Oedipus killed him, never knowing that Laius was his father. Laius’s absence allowed the Sphinx—a man-eating monster with the head of a woman, the body of a lion, and the wings of a bird—to terrorize Thebes. Oedipus answered her riddles correctly and defeated her, allowing him to take the throne and marry King Laius’s widow Queen Jocasta (Oedipus’s biological mother). They had several children together (e.g. Eteocles, Polynices, Antigone) before finally learning the truth. Racked with guilt, Oedipus blinded himself and abdicated the throne, leaving his sons, Eteocles and Polynices, to squabble over the crown.
The city of Thebes is identified with the house of Oedipus. Their opponents in the war, the Argives, are defined by their own “bad dad,” Tantalus, who cooked and served his son as a meal to the gods (224-6; 245-7). After the events of Book 2, the two royal houses are now linked by one marriage between Polynices and Argia. In these books, we see Polynices form a strange pseudo-family: he finds a new brother in Tydeus and a new father in Adrastus. However, his true parentage is the incestual union of his mother and her son, and despite his virtue, Polynices is unable to escape the fallout of that crime in his nature.
By concentrating on dysfunctional families, Statius spotlights one of the primary themes of the Thebaid: inherited, generational guilt. Punishing Eteocles and Polynices for the sins of their father likely felt as unjust to the ancients as it feels to modern readers: As Adrastus points out, it should be a non-factor in determining Polynices’ worth (Book 2, 687-91). Nevertheless, in Statius’s universe, even mankind’s most upstanding people are helpless against the destructive tyranny of the gods. What Jupiter wants, Jupiter gets.
In previous epics like Virgil’s Aeneid, the gods often acted as guarantors of justice, but Statius turns this system upside down in the Thebaid. Notably in Book 1, Jupiter has the same exact goal as the queen of hell, the Fury Tisiphone, to foment civil war. Similarly, in antiquity Apollo and Bacchus were often conceived of as polar opposites—with Apollo representing civilization and Bacchus, chaos—but Statius makes the two gods mirrors of each other in Book 2. When Mercury and Laius arrive in Thebes, they find its citizens in a raucous orgy for Bacchus (Book 2, 71-88). At the same moment, the citizens of Inachus celebrate a festival of Apollo, whose fickle cruelty is particularly highlighted in the Coroebus episode (Book 2, 557-666). In theory, Adrastus is explaining why his people worship their patron god. In reality, he describes how Apollo sexually assaulted their princess, harassed their town with a baby-eating monster, and nearly killed its most pious hero in cold blood. As the Coroebus episode emphasizes, piety does not guarantee a good end—in fact, being a good person is often an impediment to success. While Coroebus is the first upstanding man to be treated awfully by the fates and the gods in the Thebaid, he will not be the last. Statius’s deities do not have mankind’s best interests at heart; they are both helpless to help their favorites and crueler and more capricious than their epic predecessors.